


Scars

by writeronloose110



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Short, Snippets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-14 13:48:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 28,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15390084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeronloose110/pseuds/writeronloose110
Summary: In a search for lost purpose, lost hope and a lost home, they found each other once more in the deep depths of the night. He, who was astray; she, who was shattered; and they, having nothing in common other than the bandages around their arms.





	1. scars

_**Synopsis:** _

_In a search for lost purpose, lost hope and a lost home, they found each other once more in the deep depths of the night. He, who was astray; she, who was shattered; and they, having nothing in common other than the bandages around their arms_.

 _ **Short note**_ :

_If you are not aware of my writing style, it is sort of in the form of vignettes, you can call it. Basically I have not written a full detailed book, you will find yourself reading short snippets of the times that are most important all combined together to make a single story. This will be a short story of around 5-10 chapters. Also, it has been a while since I've read the books, so details may be sketchy and I apologize for that. Constructive criticism is welcome, hate comments will be deleted and the user will be blocked. Thank you for understanding._

_This book was originally published on Wattpad and Fanfiction net during the summer of 2016, but since I joined the archive recently I thought might as well post it here as well. Enjoy :)_

_** Disclaimer ** _ _**:** _

_**All rights go to** _ _**J.K** _ _**. Rowling. I do not own the characters or the settings, however I do own this story and all the relevant plot changes. Do not under any circumstances copy my work. It is a crime and will be reported. Thank you for understanding.** _


	2. epigraph

_we've all got both light and dark inside us._

_what matters is the part we choose to act on._

_that's who we really are._

**_-j.k. rowling_ **


	3. one

_Six months._

Six months were all it took to put all the pieces of the broken castle back together.

From the courtyard, it didn't seem that only six months ago this building was reduced to shreds, all rubble. The signs of the misery, death and bloody battle were gone and Hogwarts looked exactly like it did when Hermione had first laid eyes upon it, eight years ago.

_Eight years._

_So much had changed since then._

She couldn't bear it. Hermione looked away.

She remembered the first time she stood in the dark, outside the castle: anxious for the doors to open, to reveal to her all the magic and wonders of the world. She remembered how the warm yellow light from inside graced her face, how suddenly she feltas if all her worries had evaded her; her mind whirring, fingers itching to look through every nook and cranny of the old castle, just  _dying_ to unveil its secrets. She remembered feeling like she was  _home._

She didn't know  _what_ was home anymore, the mere concept seemingly ridiculous.

Even though there weren't any signs of the war anymore, she couldn't help but see red splashes of blood everywhere she glanced. On the walls, the floor, tables: she couldn't escape the red that hazed her vision, it was impossible. The sudden feeling of being trapped, being unable to breathe surrounded her whenever she tried stepping inside; as if any moment the walls would start closing in on her and would bury her underneath in the dark.

Hermione took a deep breath. She had to face her fears. It was the only way to ensure the nightmares went away for good. Her eyes pricked but she did not,  _could_ not let the tears fall. She turned and faced the castle again. She took in the serenity of her surroundings; no sounds except for the chirping of birds and the wind whistling softly in her ears, however, if she closed her eyes for more than a few seconds, she could hear them loud and clear, like going back in time: the shouts and cries of utter pain and despair,  _the sounds of death,_ ringing in her ears: too loud to ignore.

She let out her breath and straightened her posture.  _It was time._ To leave it all behind her, to forget. She walked towards the entrance.

•••

The sorting ceremony was a blur of faces as Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table, mindlessly staring out into the open. She tried not to think about the past, but it haunted her with a cruel reminder of everything she had lost. Her mind went to Ron and Harry, she smiled at the thought of them, off to pursue their career as aurors.

_Without her._

She shook the thought away. It was not right for her to think like that. He war had meddled with the minds and hearts of everyone, and she wouldn't blame them if their hearts had led them away from Hogwarts,  _away from her._

She cleared her head again. Choices, she thought, all the choices being made around her lead everyone she loved away from her.

With the final words of the sorting ceremony ringing in her ears, she wiped away a lone tear that had managed to escape and tried to put up a smile. She couldn't.

•••

The  following week and a half passed without incident, or she would like to think it did. Hermione did her best not to notice her surroundings, instead keeping her head in a book. Being a seventh year meant large amounts of homework, a huge pile of heavy books left half unread on her table in the dorm. The first weeks had given her a clear preview of how difficult this last year would be for her, but her academics were the least of her worries. What haunted her were the rows of the classrooms, each reminding her of her past years. She sat alone most of the time, but often she was so focused on her lecture that she'd almost forget where she was; unless there was some hindrance. Every time the professors asked a boy to shut up, she expected a Weasley's sly remark as a retort, but was reminded of her isolation once more when there none. She would almost turn around to shush Harry when she'd realize he wasn't there, just another boy with dark glasses. Everywhere she looked, she was reminded of how wrong everything felt, how every one who surrounded her were  _not_ the people that actually  _mattered,_ and it broke her to think to they had chosen to leave her own when they knew it was now that she needed them most.

Every time the thought came Hermione was reminded of the fact that her friends believed in her and trusted her enough to know that she would solve her problems on her own, but it pained her to think of how much they could have helped if they were just  _here._ She knew she was being selfish, her needs would have kept them back from their auror career, but  _still._ The thoughts came and she could do nothing to stop them.

Suffice to say, Hermione's first week of classes weren't going as well, but they were better than what she'd imagined. At least the nightmares weren't returning, which meant she was making progress.

Though deep in her heart she knew she hadn't even come close to facing her fears, she was avoiding them; faking the load of homework and unnecessary studying as progress on her obvious problem. 

It was though, one fateful day when she was making her way towards Potions that her she had been so engrossed in her potions books that she did not realize she had reached a turn in the hallway and bumped head first into someone. With a quick apology Hermione looked up to see who it was, confused when she saw the person had already moved on. she turned in an attempt to spot the person, only to see the receding mass of blond hair. Hermione stopped in her tracks. she was dumbfounded, she did not know  _he_ would come back.  _He_ who had tormented her for years, who had made all the wrong choices, and always found himself on the other side. She gulped. She did not want anything to do with him, for only the smallest glimpse of is figure brought back memories worse than she could ever imagine.

  •••  

The nightmares came back late that night, vicious than ever.  Sleep evaded her as her mind reminisced the events she so desperately wanted to forget. Her mind ringing with the sounds of the war; spell against spell, cries of pain and shouts of distress; Hermione shot up from bed, unable to breath. She tried to calm herself:  _deep breaths, deep breaths,_  she held herself tight, eyes screwed shut trying to keep away the bloody scene that played against the inside of her eyes. She tried so hard not to cry; the other girls might wake up. She held herself for what seemed like forever, but to no avail. The dark room was lit by the moon light, the bare trees outside casting sinister shadows on the walls. They haunted her, reminding her of the shadows that she had been trying to escape for so long. The memories choked her; buried her underneath layers and layers of pain and fear.

Hermione caught her breath. She couldn't breathe, she needed air, air: somewhere, somewhere,  _she needed to go._

Not making a sound, she swiftly got up, put on her robes and went out of the room.

Crossing the common room and out of the dorm, she did not pause and let her feet guide her in the dark to where ever they led. It was well after curfew, but she didn't care; she would have suffocated otherwise.

It was times like this that she missed Ginny; if she were here Hermione would have simply woken her up, or might have found her lying awake in bed already, still pondering over the things she'd lost.

But she was not here, neither was Ron or Harry. Hermione was alone, so irrevocably alone. They had chosen to let her fight this one battle on her own, and a part of her was greatful. But another part of her yearned for their company, so they could make her fears go away.

 _But you cast your_ ** _own_** _patronus_ _, Hermione,_ she reminded herself.  _No one does it for you._  But she also thought of how much easier it'd be if someone was there to constantly remind her of all the good times in her life; a friend to help her cast a patronus. Shed even forgotten what it was, it had been such a long time since shed cast it.  _An otter,_ her thoughts echoed at the back of her mind. She wondered if a patronus could save her from her own mind.

Her footsteps echoed in the dark as she walked the long hallways, tears falling as she recalled how once she roamed the same halls with so many other people, and how fate had led her to roam those halls now alone. It was cruel, she thought. Thinking about it made her heart ache, so she let her mind race, traveling to a thousand different places at once. Absent mindedly her fingers traced the edges of a bandaged that wound around her arm, a bandage she never intended on removing, yet another cruel reminder of what she did not want to remember. She was thankful for the dark; it deprived her from knowing where she was, and that saved her from remembering who she had lost  _there._

She had her wand with her, but she did not use it to light her way: she knew she wouldn't get lost.

Her feet came to an abrupt stop as she came to a turn, the unmistakable sounds of cries coming from the other side.

Her breath hitched as she hid behind the wall, trying to make out who it might be. It was definitely a boy; the sounds were too deep to be one of the girls. He cried and cried, his breaths hitched and often interrupted by mumblings she made out to be spells; which ones, she did not know. She stood there for who knows how long, contemplating her options.

Hermione couldn't take it anymore, she took out her wand, wordlessly illuminating it and stepped out from behind the wall. If she could not deal with her own nightmares, she could at least help someone with theirs.

However, what she was not expecting to see when she rounded the corner was the disheveled image of a particular platinum blonde whose face she could not forget even if she tried; with his white shirt torn and stained with the same blood that pooled at his feet and stuck to his hair.

Draco Malfoy stood ten feet away from her, unmistakably crying and heaving, angrily muttering a string of spells she could not quite catch. He was holding his wand and pointing it to his arm, too busy inflicting pain upon himself to notice her presence. It was her horrified cry that escaped her lips as she saw the image before that caught his attention, and Draco turned towards her with bloodshot eyes and a face streaked with blood, wand poised towards a bloody arm.

Draco stared at Hermione, his eyes holding emotions so strong, so full of  _pain,_ confusion, utter hopelessness and desperation,and  _fear_  that she was caught in a trance for a moment. She took in his image, his sleeves torn at the arms, both his arms bloodied and bruised, face contorted into one of insane sorrow. It was the first time they they had come face to face since the war, since  _he had fled,_ and both could see the horrible things the war had lead them to do, led them to feel and  _think,_ leaving them questioning their own memories, their own thoughts. He saw in her eyes the same pain, followed a deep,  _deep_ woe he could not place. But soon as he realized what was happening, Draco's face contorted into an expression of utter  _agony,_ and hot, raw  _anger._

" _Leave me alone!_ _"_ he shouted as a string of an unfamiliar spell shot past her, barely missing her shoulder. That was enough to bring Hermione back to her wits, and she took in the situation.

"Draco I- I just wanted to help," she started. "Why are you doing this to yourse-"

" _I don_ _'_ _t need your help,_ _"_ he sneered. _"_  You're here to point and laugh at me, aren't you Granger? Just like everybody else, just like saint  _Potter._ Leave  _now before I kill you._ _"_ He shouted at her, completely taking her aback, his wand now pointing  _her._

Hermione faltered. She saw his arm now, clearly. The sleeves had been torn till the elbows, baring his skin, and it was then she saw the horrid sign that would forever stain her memory; the dark mark. But it was not just that, it was heavily bruised with blood seeping out of it with a steady flow, dripping to the floor and streaking the nearby walls. It all made sense to her now, as she put the pieces together, and when she did her eyes pricked with tears and her chest tightened with remorse.

_Draco had been trying to get rid of the dark mark. Draco, the evilest of all Hogwarts students, desperately hurting himself in attempts to rid himself of the evil that traced his skin, dark against his strikingly pale skin._

It hurt her to see him like this, chilled her to the bone and then, at that moment something shifted inside of her. She no longer saw the proud, handsome young man that had tormented her for years, constantly reminding of her  _inferior_ bloodline, but instead, she saw a young boy, broken and lost in a fight he never wanted to be in. In the midst of his grey irises, Hermione saw a young boy desperate to escape, to escape the harsh reality that will follow him like a plague for the rest of his life.

She held out her wand and stepped closer to him. "Draco, you wouldn't, I know you wouldn't," she started, still moving closer to him. He stood transfixed, as if he couldn't believe she was trying to come near him. "If you'd listen to me I can mend your arm before you lose too much blood, please let met h-"

" _I don_ _'_ _t need your help you filthy little_ _mudblo-_ _"_ he shouted but stopped, midway. Her eyes widened and pricked, the pain of the past rushing back towards her. However, this time those words did not affect her as much as they once did, she was able to ingest the words, knowing now they held no meaning to her, or to him too, as she did not fail to notice that he had been unable to complete his sentence, while once in another lifetime he wouldn't have thought twice before saying them. Now, he looked like he had been slapped square in the face, an expression of utter horror molding his features as he realized the words had just left his mouth.

•••

Draco could not stop the words from escaping his lips; he had been too angry and torn to have control over his mind. He hated seeing her here,  _her,_ of all people. The granger. He hated her for catching him in his moment of weakness, when all his hopes of escaping the dark shadows of the wretched mark had vanished, forcing him to steer away from the dungeon to try and peel it off of him for good,  _by force._  And then  _she_ had to arrive, the last person he wanted to, or was expecting, to see.

However, as soon as he found the foul profanity leaving his lips he stopped himself, his eyes widening, realizing what he was just about to say. The words hung in the air, unfinished and inhumane as ever. His mouth tasted foul, tongue tasting the bitterness of the word he had sworn he'd  _never_ say again. It shook him to the core and rendered him speechless, all his anger dissipating into the air, replaced by cold and clear  _shock,_ at his own actions. It brought back horrid memories of one afternoon at Malfoy manor, when the girl standing in front of him was left with Bellatirx to do as she pleased with her, and he was forced to watch.

The scene played before his very eyes again; he could almost hear her screams reverberating off of the walls once more, crying, begging, screaming for her stop. No words can explain what he felt then, hate and disgust:  _at himself,_ helplessness, hopelessness, and most of all:  _guilt._

That same guilt follows him still, and forever will, for no matter how much hate his father had instilled him for the muggle born girl, he never  _once_ wanted her hurt. Not  _once._

And it was the same guilt that had prevented him from saying more.

He watched with utter shock how she registered the long inflicted wound. She had flinched and stop for a brief second before swiftly recovering her resolve. He watched as she squared her shoulders and closed the distance between them, steady, long strides bringing her closer to him. She stopped when she was right beside him, and took his raised arm in her hands as he could only silently watch as she wordlessly healed his wounds. His eyes never left her, her guarded expression soft unrevealing, following the movements of her hand as she moved the tip of her wand across his skin.

Wordless, they stood there until she had mended all his wounds wand had wiped away all the blood from his arm. And then, as silently and gracefully she had approached him, she left, leaving him reflecting on what had just taken place between him and the muggle born. She did not once look back.

Draco stared, still at a loss of words. He looked at his arm, now devoid of all the scars he had inflicted upon it; and yet the mark was still there, less bloodied, less scarred, but still there.

He stood there, unable to look away from his hand, unable to look away from the dark serpent that stared back at him. Oddly enough, it felt  _cleaner_ than it had been before, even though nothing about it had changed.

Still staring and pondering, Draco walked back to the dungeons, eyes not leaving his arm for one second. His face tear streaked and blood splashed, eyes hurting and the arm now numb, he staggered back to the dungeons.

He thought of a billion different things on the way back, but strangely not of his past as he normally did; but rather, of a bushy haired girl who had healed him the middle of a hallway in the dark depths of the night.

Draco didn't know when his misery would end, when his redemption would end, and where would it leave him there after? What he had come to know right know was when it had  _begun,_ and he liked to think it was right now as his wounds were healed by a former enemy. He realized, that this was only just the beginning, and the key to the end may be found in a bushy haired witch walking away from him into the depths of castle beyond his reach. 

•••


	4. two

Hermione sat at the dining table, unable to eat or drink, her eyes fixated on a three separate envelopes she had received that morning. She could differentiate which was sent by whom without reading the names; she knew the handwritings all too well to require anymore confirmation. Her eyes skimmed over the names once more, Ron's, Harry's and Ginny's, all scribbled in thick ink over the thin pieces of parchments. Hermione wondered why all three of them had decided to write all at once, she wondered if they were okay and if all was well. Her mind was so wrecked with worry and panic, only thinking of the worst that she couldn't bring herself to open the envelopes. Instead, she looked around and tried keeping her eyes from landing on the envelopes sitting beside her breakfast plate,  _that_  too untouched.

As her eyes watched over all the new faces that surrounded her, she was briefly distracted by the hustle and bustle around her. She saw tiny eleven year old heads bent over their books and homework, swiftly stuffing food in their mouths so they wouldn't be late for classes. She saw year four and five students ogling a young boy whom they thought was very handsome and a complete catch, she could see so many groups of friends just laughing really loudly and joking around one another, and for a brief moment, she could make herself believe that all was alright. That the past year and a half hadn't happened at all, that it was all just a terrible nightmare shed had, and if she closed her eyes she and concentrated very hard on the laughter and vibrancy around her, she could almost,  _almost_  imagine she was here with Ron and harry, and all those familiar faces she knew could never see again were still here with her having a laugh. But just like that, the spell was broken, and she could no longer hear the laughter anymore; instead her mind replayed again and again the monsters she had to face, the demons crawled out and shut the blinds, and once more her mind was a deep sea of dark thoughts, thoughts that would drive her to insanity if she didn't block them out...

"Miss Granger, are you alright?" Hermione was shaken out of her thoughts with the all too familiar voice of her the Headmistress, her slender fingers resting on Hermione's shoulder, her grim warm and welcoming. Hermione pushed her thoughts away and tried to put up a smile for her favourite Professor.

"Yes, yes Professor, how could you ever think otherwise?" she smiled wide as she looked into the warm, kind eyes of the old Professor. She knew she couldn't hide her thoughts from her, Professor knew her all too well. Professor McGonagall faltered for a bit, but then returned the smile. That smile was enough to make Hermione feel better, or she knew the professor understood her perfectly, and she was one whose loss was far greater than hers; for she had lost more young pupils and colleagues than she had lost friends and companions.

"I would never, Miss Granger. You seemed a bit down, I was only here to check on you. If you ever need me, you know where to find me," she smiled with her knowing eyes, though for the briefest of moments she felt them shift slightly towards the bandage on her left hand. "I'm proud of you, young lady, be strong," she said and left with a pat on her back.

Hermione smiled, and tried not to think of her shifty eyes, because she realized no matter how much she had lost, no matter how hard her mind tried to convince her that all was not well and the damage could not be fixed, a distant and lost part of her heart knew she was wrong, and that she was never quite alone. She had friends who had written to her, she had such loving and caring professors, the only issue was herself. Somewhere, somehow, sometime during and after the war, she had lost her sense of purpose, her sense of morality and ethics, and somewhere deep in her heart, buried underneath all the fear and turmoil was the bravery for which she was recognized. If only, she could reach into herself and bring it back once more, all the turmoil will be over and shed be free of the unyielding chains of her past. If only it were that easy,  _if only._ But after one glance at Professor McGonagall, she knew it was not impossible. She knew she could make through and she knew she was not alone. For the first time in what seemed like forever, she  _knew_ she was capable of freedom. Though currently far from it, Hermione saw clearly in her head the path in her head, the road down recovery, and she smiled. She knew she could accomplish it.

And with that newfound purpose and hope, Hermione stuffed the envelopes in her bag as the first period bell rang and ran to the doors of the Great Hall with a swing in her steps.

  •••  

After a long and tiresome day of studies, Hermione sat late at night at the table in the dormitory, her books and parchment spread out before her, her mind roaming the streets of The History of Magic, recalling all the important facts and figures. As her eyes skimmed over the fine text of the thick book, her eyes caught the presence of a different piece of paper. Perplexed, she reached over to the edge of the book and pulled it out, gasping as she pulled out one of the three letters she had received that morning. Torn over the fact that she had absolutely forgotten she had received them and not at all thought of reading them throughout the day, she quickly reached over her stationary and grabbed a ruler.

She paused before tearing the seal open, thinking of might the folded parchment contain, and thought she might as well get over with it quickly rather than delaying the dread. The only voice in the quiet dorm was of her ruler tearing against the parchment, and to her, the violent beating of her heart against her chest. She took out the triple folded letter and was immediately faced with Ron's messy scrawl. She took a deep breath and prepared herself for the worst.

•••

_Dearest Hermione,_

_I'm sorry I didn't owl you earlier, I was so loaded with work and so much has been going around in the house I honestly couldn't find the time. I hope you're well, you have no idea how much everyone around the house has missed you these past few weeks, especially Ginny, bloody hell she never shuts up. Harry, he's best as ever. Really working hard in the_ _auror_   _department. He misses you loads too, and we actually wanted to come see you and say all of this to you in person, but everything happened so quickly and the house and everyone is such a mess that we never found the time. You have no idea how many times I've written this and rewritten this, it's been... it's been real difficult. Ginny and Harry, they're going to write to you too. We all have something to say, and it's difficult for all three of us. Try and understand, alright?_

_Training as_ _aurors_ _, is not what we made it out to be. I mean, its real amazing and real fun, and we finally feel like we're doing the right thing. But, it requires a lot more traveling than we thought it would. Right now, I'm writing this from a small old hotel room somewhere in Scotland (you know my geography is rubbish, I don't know where the hell we are), while Harry's on the bed writing his own letter to you. Turns out, we need to be able to face any and every situation, at any place and any time and it can get real hard sometimes. Right next month we're leaving he country to who knows where! I have to say I'm kind of excited. Well, that's first of a few things I needed to tell you._

_Second, dad's got a promotion! Everyone's thrilled back at the Burrow, and we wanted to throw a big celebration and call you here, but then came the other news. Dad's job wants him to travel to the other side of the country, and Hermione I'm really bummed to say this but, we're going to have to leave the Burrow._

_I know, I know it's a shock. It was for all of us too. George still isn't done with his sarcastic comebacks, Ginny's pretty bummed as well and she doesn't stop slamming doors even though we've_ **_told_ ** _her a million times to stop and that it won't do her any good. Me, I'm not home much so it technically doesn't matter to me, but I did argue a ton with Mum and Dad about it for a long time. Whatever happened, I_ **_never_ ** _wanted to leave the Burrow,_ **_never ever_ ** _. It was our home for as long as we could remember, all our memories good and bad, all were all made here. We couldn't possibly bring ourselves to leave this place, but Dad was bent up on his decision, and no one could make him change his mind. He said not only was it good for the family economically, but that he'd be working real close to the muggles. That made me shut up a little, but when he said the family needed a change of scenery, no one argued after that, because no matter how much we try to fool ourselves, we knew it was true. You know how after the war everyone's been dealing with Fred, George doesn't show it but he still can't make jokes like he used to. He still hasn't set foot into their shop, and Mum, Mum's still not over it. She still cries when she rounds the corner and goes to their room,_ _she-_ _she's not okay Hermione, and you've seen that. You saw it before you went away and I know you'll understand that it's for her we all want to leave. She doesn't leave the house much. She only makes Fred's favourite meal, with all the pictures in our house, it's impossible not to think of something sad even though a bunch of us are there to make her happy. She's a mother, Hermione, and she can't possibly ever forget her loss, more so than us too even though we lost a brother as well. I know you love her and would want the best of her, so I know you'd see that leaving the Burrow may be the best decision Dad could make. Plus, Dad's always loved muggles, and it's been his dream to know more of them since I don't even know when, probably since he was a kid. How can I take this from him Hermione? He's always given us the best that he could, and now when he's so close to what he wants, I can't possibly take that away from him. I can't do that to him, take another one of the things he loves._

_But, there's not all bad news, Bill and Fleur decided they'd move into the Burrow, after all Bill doesn't want to see it barren, and with his baby coming along, they needed a bigger house. That's what made the rest of us feel better about it, knowing that the Burrow won't be empty of any_ _Weasleys_ _. And I swear Hermione once I'm done with the training I'm going straight back, it's been my home for ages and I can't imagine life without it. I'd move back in with Bill and his family, but for the time being it's just him and Fleur and the little baby. But for the rest of us, our fate lies somewhere else._

_And that Hermione brings me to the last thing that I wanted to tell you. I know I promised to be there for you always, and I will be I swear you owl me once and I_ _'ll_ _apparate_ _right back to you if you want, no matter if I'm underwater or in America. I'll do it for you. But, there's always a "but" isn't there? Always ruining wonderful things, I didn't think I'd hate a three letter word as much as this. Anyway, back to the point. The thing is, you know my family needs me right now. And with all the_ _auror_ _training and the shifting and everything, I know I won't be able to give my best to you. I'm sorry, and I know you would object but you know it's true. I know you're thinking that even if I don't give my best at least I'd still be there for you, but know that whatever it is between us, I will always,_ **_always,_ ** _be there for you no matter what. But understand that now is not the right time, it rarely ever is. And I don't want to say this, trust me its killing me but I know my family needs me now more than ever, and right now I know I won't be able to keep you happy like you deserve to be. But understand that it is not possible just yet, you need to work on your studies, because let's be honest you'll be the most successful out of all of us, and the last thing I want is my problems to keep you from more important things. And I know if you were here you'd smack me right across the head and tell me not to be ridiculous, but it's true. I don't know when I'll be back in the country, I don't know where I'm going next, I don't know how long this would last and I don't know when I'd be able to write to you again. I don't want to leave you hanging, and I don't want you to wait, for anything. I don't want to hold you back. If fate is kind, and the stars want it, we'll make it back to each other someday, find what we lost. I'm so, so, so sorry Hermione, I really can't convey this to you. I know you'll be angry and you'll yell and shout, but I also know you'll understand me later. Because you're the best out of us Hermione, you're the one who'll always be there even if we aren't. You'll always follow us even if it meant leaving everything you own. You'll always do what's best for us, and try to understand that right now I'm trying to do what's best for you, and my family. I know it won't be easy, I know none of our old friends are there with you right now, but also know that we are just a call away. Owl Ginny anytime and she'll show up, Harry would literally cross oceans if it meant comforting you. You know you can always visit the Burrow, Bill would be happy to have you, and once the family shifts I'll send you the address. You will always be welcome, and you know that._

_I know I may seem like a big douche right now, but it will all make sense later. You're the smartest, most caring wonderful witch of our age Hermione, and it pains me know that I'm hurting you. But the war has damaged everyone, and we all need some time to heal. If you ever feel alone, know that where ever we are we are thinking of you, and talking of you and that you'll never leave our minds. Not ever. And even if this isn't the right time for us, I'm still am and forever will be your best friend. Never hesitate to owl us, for now that well always be waiting on the other side. I'm sorry I am doing this to you, it brings me no pleasure but I am, truly am sorry. I will still love you, for years to come._

_One last thing before I say goodbye, is that Harry's getting his old home in_ _Godric's_ _Hollow rebuilt. It's pretty damaged and broken and everything, but the process will be complete sometime after Christmas or New Year's. He plans on us all living together once were all done with our busy lives, just like we wanted it to be. Harry, you and me, the golden trio reunited. Even though we won't be there for a long time to come, Harry's gonna send you a key. Whenever you feel down or want to go somewhere, you're welcome anytime._

_With that last thought, I hope you achieve what you want to. I hope you understand that we all love you, and that no matter where we are we're thinking of you, and wishing for your best. I wish we could do more to be supportive and show that were here, but as I said, the time isn't right. We'll make it right, we promise. No distance will ever make us forget you. I don't know when we'll see each other again, but we hope it's soon and in the best of health. For now, it's a see you later. We'll see each other soon Hermione, don't worry and always,_ **_always_ ** _stay happy._

_Always thinking of you,_

_Ron._

•••

By the time she read the last words, the tears were spilling down her cheeks. Her blurry vision not allowing her to see, she sat back in the chair and hugged herself, the letter falling to the ground. She cried as she recalled that Ron and Harry were leaving her without knowledge of their return, and that the people she loved most were moving away. Ron had asked her to understand, and she did she did, she  _really did_ , which had made it all the more harder. She understood perfectly why the Weasleys had to move, she understood perfectly why they couldn't stop thinking of Fred. She understood that Ron and Harry had to leave, and she understood why Ron had broken up with her and left her once more with a broken heart.

She remembered it all too well the previous times Ron had hurt her, but she knew that this time he had a valid reason and she could do nothing more than respect his decision. Even though it hurt she knew he was right, she might have given up on him if he had disappeared without a trace without knowing if his return, it would have been more difficult  _waiting._ Waiting was one of the most dreadful things on the planet, and Ron had only saved her from being on the receiving end. But it  _hurt_ nonetheless because she felt alone once more, no matter how many times Ron had told her she shouldn't, she  _still_  felt alone. Everyone all around her were leaving her to fight her battles by herself. She knew it was her decision to come back, and she had known at the time how difficult it would be, but knowing doesn't make the pain go away, it doesn't lessen the loneliness when no one is there to hear you cry or offer a shoulder of support. 

Once again, fueled by woe she ran out of the dorm and once more into the dark staircases of the giant castle. She cried as her feet led her somewhere far, deep into the labyrinth of the hallways.

Once more, years after, she found herself crying beneath a familiar set of stairs, both times because of Ron. However last time, it was Harry who had found her and had offered a shoulder to cry on. Right then, she had no one and it almost drove her  _insane._

Hermione let the tears fall as she thought about life, if one day it'll be fair to her and she would finally be free of her grief, and wondered when she would reunite with her friends. The same day she thought she was making progress with her grief, Ron had decided to write that blasted letter. No matter how much she wanted to though, she couldn't bring herself to blame Ron. It was his life and his family, and he was right to do what he did, but it did not make it any easier to endure the pain that had consumed her.

Her thoughts roaming, she thought about her parents too, who were lost and didn't even remember who she was. She hadn't been able to find them, the past six months, and all of these thoughts combined made her cry even harder. Her friends had moved on with their lives, her parents were nowhere to be found and the grief of the war had broken her to a great degree, some damage she had found herself unable to recover from.

Although, the young witch was not as alone as she thought herself to be. Amidst her crying, Hermione did not notice a looming figure at the top of the stairs. She did not know then, that the figure had seen her crying and running quite a few hallways beyond and had decided to follow. She did not hear, or see, as the figure walked down stairs, pausing for a brief second on the last step and finally sat down beside her.

Hermione flinched as someone sat beside her. Stunned, she wiped her eyes to be able to see clearly, but it did her no good to find out that the person sitting beside her was an all too familiar face. A face she had always associated with the enemy, a face that had proven her assumptions wrong quite recently, and a face she had not thought about since their encounter a few nights ago.

Hermione's sobs stopped for a brief moment as she registered the fact that Draco Malfoy was sitting beside her, vision fixed ahead, turning his wand in hands. He did not look at her, did not say a single word, just sat there with an expression of understanding. For the first time since year one, she found the features of the blonde prodigy  _soft,_ and  _warm,_ towards  _her._ She felt as if it were a dream; all since the letter and now there, under the stairs. But she understood what he was trying to offer. Companionship, something she had lacked since the moment she set foot in the castle weeks ago. She smiled as a few lone tears fell once more, smiled at  _fate_ , at karma and all that had led her to that moment. She thanked the stars for listening to the plea of her broken heart, and silently as she pushed her way closer to Draco, their shoulders touching, she thanked the Malfoy for being there, for his silent presence acting as beacon for her to hold on to, helping her escape from the dark abyss of her mind.

No one quite remembers how long they had sat there, for Hermione had fallen asleep against his shoulder and only woke up when the rays of sunlight peeked from behind the pillars, and found herself poised against the stone wall, an all too familiar obsidian jacket draped over her. For the first time in a long, long time, Hermione allowed herself a smile. A genuine, heart warming smile. 

Little did she know, the best was yet to come.

•••


	5. three

Hermione found herself woken up by the booming sound of thunder. She heaved, eyes wide open and in shock as she saw the room repeatedly illuminated by the flashing light, and tried to steady herself as the room shook with the thundering outside. A wild wind blew, whistling furiously against the windows and the trees shook with the force of an unknown entity. Hermione looked around, expecting to see the rest of the girls awake too, but to her dismay everyone was fast asleep. She couldn't understand how anyone could sleep through such chaos, but was then reminded of the cruel fact that the events of the past years had sharpened her senses to a higher degree.

Heaving a sigh, she tried to calm her racing nerves and laid back in bed.

It took a while, but eventually the dancing shadows of the trees against one another lulled her back into a dreamless sleep.

•••

_Meanwhile on the other side of the castle._

Draco stood beside the giant arching windows in the common room, gazing out into the murky waters of the lake, listening to the vicious sounds of the storm outside. Unable to sleep, as he found himself every night, he let his mind be distracted by the noises outside.

Alas, for him, his mind resembled quite closely the storm raging outside. He could not let the demons stay quiet, for every thundering sound resembled the cackling laughter of the Dark Lord and his companions as they finished off one of their many enemies. The laughter would forever ring in his ears, reminding him of his incompetence,  _ignorance._

Every blinding flash of white reminded him of the spells he was asked to cast, and of his cowardice as he recalled complying. He was pathetic. He cursed.

The whistling wind carried the tortured cries of the innocent, the screams that echoed through his manor and memories of those torturous nights where he cried as the people he had known his entire lives suffered in front of him, and he only stood there, helpless,  _useless._

He did not hate any one of them, and even if his dislike for a few ranged on various levels, he still would never have wished to see them tortured,  _killed,_ before his very eyes.

And the thrashing of the trees harshly against the stone walls above reminded him of just that, the slender shadows mutated through the waters and, writhing and weak, shaking viciously in his line of sight, reminding him of all the bodies he had seen suffering before his eyes.

He hated it. Hated everything. His father, the Dark Lord, Harry Potter, this god forsaken castle and everything that came with. He hated his father for pressuring him to become someone he was not, to do something he knew in his bones he could not do. He hated himself for always agreeing to whatever he said, for being forced into making all the wrong decisions. Decisions that ruined his life, his family, his mother, his future and everything he stood for.

He was supposed to be the great Malfoy prodigy, someone who could roam the halls of this very school with his head high and tall, someone who could be proud of his bloodline. But instead all his choices had lead him to an insulting fate, the fate of an  _outcas_ t. He wouldn't have minded it though, not having any friends or being alone, what bothered him was the fact that he could not be who he wanted anymore, the great Malfoys were no longer great anymore, and their grand reputation in the wizarding world (which was all that they had left, except for the large amounts of fortune) reduced to shreds. They were now known as the ones who fled, the ones who could not even bear the loyalty of their  _so called great Dark Lord_ , of whom their father (and him too) had talked so highly of. Draco was disgusted at his fate, saw too that it was somewhat fitting. He could not argue when people said that this was what he deserved, for a large part of him believed that he did.

Long ago, during the meetings ( _lessons,_ he corrected himself) with his father, his mind had always objected at his father's view of life, but his need and desperate want to keep the head of the Malfoy name high, and to do his father proud had brought him to his knees, resulting him to obey every word his father had ever taught him. All he wanted was people to respect him for his so called superior bloodline, but somehow during that journey, he mistook respect for  _fear,_ and wasn't ever able to tell the difference between them.All he was ever taught in his entire life was to never disappoint his father, and to do whatever he could to keep their head held high. He snorted, laughing at the irony of his fate that along the route to achieving his family's goals, he had achieved just the opposite. However, now he could quite clearly tell the difference between fear and respect, for as all the Malfoy family had left was fear, a dark presence that followed them everywhere they went. In another life, it would have made him quite happy to achieve such fear that made everyone he passed cower in fear, but now, he wanted anything but  _tha_ t. He was done spreading fear, he was done scaring people _, forcing people_  into doing something they would never do.

Along the hallways, students talked behind his back, pointed at him, made absurd accusations (to which, to his utter anger and dismay he could not object to, for they had some truth laced within them) and even though he could make them suffer with just the twitch of his wand, he was done with that. He was done with the violence, the torture, the hurt and forcefulness.  _The unwillingness_. Never again would he do something that he didn't want to. He was done with people being afraid of him, and running away from him.

 _That is not how you gain respect, dammit!_  His mind yelled at him. He would gain back the lost status of his bloodline, he vowed he would do that. But not the way his father had taught him, no. those days are long gone. He would do whatever he thought was right, regardless of his father's thoughts. He had had enough of people calling him a coward, a fleer, a  _villain_. He was  _done._

But that had lead him to another dilemma; he didn't know what was right or wrong anymore. The war had blurred the lines, even more so than they were before, and made him realize that the people he had always thought of enemies, were not at all what they were. His moral compass had never been straight, but now it was wholly broken and he did not know what do. And the worst of all, inked onto his skin was a reminder he could never get rid of, a reminder of his wrong choices, a reminder of his nightmares, a reminder of his lost family.

He hated that too.

He hated the storm from keeping him from his sleep, he simply hated everything. He was so lost when it came to himself, that he found no other emotion other than hate and rage driving his actions, although his control over his arrogance had increased by a milestone.

He thought he could escape the horrible shadows, the horrifying sounds that kept him awake at night if he left his home, but when he was greeted by Hogwarts, he faced something he did not know how to encounter.

He knew how to fight, how to cast spell against spell. He knew how to argue, he knew just how to twist words into bitter sentences, and he knew when and how to hit a sensitive spot. He knew how to throw a punch, he knew a hell lot when it came to that.

What he didn't know was, how to react to utter  _silence,_  and  _nothingness_. And that was all Hogwarts had ever offered him. Silence, followed where ever he went. Blank faces of the students who were not aware of his past, and the scared and scarred faces of those who had seen him face to face in war. The teachers were wary of him too, though they did their best to hide that. And it drove him insane because he did not know how to react to any of that. The only thing he could do to keep his mind occupied was study, and it was only a matter of time when he had studied all that he had to for the entire year, and then he was again left with nothing to do. Quidditch was not an option anymore, though he loved the sport he could not bring himself to play it, it only reminded him of the past years, a pang of nostalgia hitting him every time he thought about it.

Nights were the worst, when the dungeons were at their darkest. The sounds of the water waves slopping and splashing against the common room windows were comforting a few years back, but now he found the dark depths of the water revolting; if he listened closely he felt like the water would try to speak to him, whispering dark, ancient secrets he did not want to hear, and that too drove him mad. If sleep ever did come, it would come with torturous reminders of its own: recalling each and every death ever witnessed, replaying the sounds that echoed off the manor walls, recounting every good life he had known: lost. The waking hours were not so considerate either, as his mind would remind him of his friends ( _associates_ , he corrected himself) most of whom were dead, jailed or had fled.

He slammed his hands against the barred windows, clutching the metal bars tightly enough to make his knuckles go white. He was tired, tired of bearing the weight of such giant expectations, to have such a great responsibility thrust upon him from such a young age. He knew his entire life he was wrong, but he had complied only for the sake of his parents,  _only_ for them. All the things he had said and done, the regret weighed him down and choked him, blurred his vision and made it difficult for him to  _breathe._ He wanted another go at life, once from the beginning and live it the right way. He wanted to forget, he wanted to apologize to those who weren't alive anymore, and the hopelessness drove him mad.

He thought of leaving the common room for a walk to clear his mind, but a thought suddenly stopped him.

What if he saw  _her_ again?

His mouth twitched.  _Her_ , the  _Granger_.

He let go of the bars and turned around, walking towards the posh set of sofas and sitting down. He stared into the empty fireplace, momentarily allowing himself a thought of the witch. The girl he had always tormented, he remembered clearly ruining her younger years at the school. He remembered calling her that wretched name, taunting her, making fun of her and so much more, doing everything in his power to make her feel inferior, because that was what his father taught him, and his father was always  _right._

And yet, he laughed again at life's little irony, it was she who had helped him that night. He thought about their first encounter, first one after the war. The memories of a night many months before flashed back into his mind, one from the manor. He screwed his eyes shut and tried to repress the memory. Never had he ever thought that after the war anyone would ever show him compassion, sympathy, and he had prepared himself for that. He didn't  _want_ compassion or sympathy, but that's what everybody thinks. Everyone who suffers one way or another thinks at one point or another that they don't need anyone, that they don't require companionship, sympathy, empathy or any kind of emotions at all. But when shown even the slightest bit, they realize that no matter how much they try to repress it, they know that having someone who knows what you are going through  _is very_ comforting. Companionship, having someone who's just  _there,_ it's a nice feeling, no matter how much you try to ignore it.

Draco found himself thinking of  _Hermione,_ who did not yell at him, hate him or let him be, but actually helped him when he was at an all-time low, at a point where he was so hopeless he thought tearing his skin off might be the only way to destroy the repulsive sign. She was there to mend his injuries, when no one else was, she was there, in every class, in every hallway, and everywhere he looked, she was just  _there._

She was the one familiar face from the past, one whom he had treated horribly ever since he met her. And ironically, she was the one who had showed him any type of emotion after the war. It was more than the silence, it was more than fear: she wasn't afraid of him, and with one look in her eyes he could tell she  _understood._ She understood his position, she understood his actions, she simply understood but didn't choose to say so, one type of silence he actually appreciated. Draco hated showing weakness in front of people, but having the Granger see him at his weakest, and not having her saying another word of it, to anyone, choosing as though nothing had ever happened, he was grateful. Very much so.

The events of the past night had changed his views a bit though. Draco thought she was the never changing Hermione Granger, strong, valiant and a heart annoyingly as big as the ocean, but it was not so. For the first time, he had taken things from her perspective, when he saw her weeping on those abandoned stairs the night ago: she was  _alone._ This was the place where she had lost so many of her loved ones, most for which his family was responsible for. And yet, she stilled showed him  _compassion._ She was indeed strong, but what he was missing was she was also a girl. An eighteen year old girl who was sharing his struggle, struggling possibly even more than he was. That made him wonder how the war had affected everyone, even someone as noble as Hermione Granger. The loss of the war had caused a massive change in everyone around him. It had scarred every life he had ever known.

 _The war,_ he thought. It had blurred the lines. Lines between friend and foe, right and wrong, happiness and woe. The war had cut them all deep, and every one had scars they weren't proud of, everyone had made mistakes, seen deaths,  _killed_ even.

He wondered how some scars, some that cannot be seen by the eye, or cannot be healed by magic; he wondered how one would recover from those. Those scars were the ones that cut the deepest, and the ones inflicted during  _war_ , he did not even want to imagine how one could recover from those. But he had too, there was no choice but too, and now he realized he was not the only one harboring them, and he realized he didn't have to recover from them alone.

In a world full of horror, with a past dark as the night, and his mind full of all that was wrong, Hermione Granger was the only thing  _right_ in his life. There was nothing more to do, than just be close to her. He didn't know why, but his confused mind was drawn to her, as he was never before.

As the dark waters of the lake were lightened by the light of the rising sun, Draco's mind was still scattered, the remains of the hopelessness still there, yet silenced by a great degree.

He realized, that as some scars could not be healed in isolation, but rather they are healed from the company of the ones you love.

With no one in the world left there to love, he found the closest rival in the form of a bushy haired muggle born whom he had hated to the core his entire life, but somehow could not bring himself to hate any longer.

•••

Hermione sat at the breakfast table, staring at her empty plate. She rarely ever ate at the dining table, showing up only for the sake of maintaining a routine. She thought about the vicious storm from the previous night, and was shocked at how clear the sky was that morning. It was like the past night had never ever happened, there was no sign of damage or clouds, and she thought that that was the beginning of a wonderful day.

Suddenly, she felt a dark shadow shifting into place beside her. Alert, she spun around only to see the bright figure of Draco Malfoy shrouded in his usual attire of black shifting beside her, eyes shifty and posture tensed.

Hermione, left astounded for several minutes allowed herself a smile as she took in his uncomfortable figure shifting under the gazes of half the people. She was not even the tiniest bit dazed that the whole hall was watching them, watching as a S _lytherin_ had found enough courage to sit at the  _Gryffindor_ table.

Hermione smiled, for reasons unknown, her chest swelling with a happiness she never thought she would feel again.

This was indeed the beginning of a wonderful day.

•••


	6. four

Days passed, just like that and barely any of them noticed. They had managed a routine, sitting together, eating together, walking to class, walking out of class and accompanying each other everywhere. Hermione had even made a valiant effort on her part and sat in the very back seat with Draco as well, even though it made it hard for her to hear or see. Despite the large amounts of time they spent together, none of them said a word, it was like an unspoken promise, to let them have the privacy of their mind. It was better that way, both of them thought, because not either of them would trust themselves, unknown what would come out of their mouths if allowed to speak.

During sleepless nights both would always find one another in the hallways, and bask in the company of each other. Their nightmares would be too loud, too vivid to real to ignore so they would concentrate on what was actually real.

He would imagine Hermione's hair, wild and unruly and uncontrollable. She would imagine Draco's eyes, grey like the clouds before a storm, lost, yet calculating every movement, every action.

They were real, they were there. They were not alone. Despite their past, they had chosen to move on. Battle scarring them worse than ever, they were left alone to deal with the side effects.

However, whenever Hermione would round a corner to come face to face with the place she had seen Fred lying dead, unmoving and sickly pale, a picture engraved perfectly to memory, and her mind would refuse to stop playing the horrific scene repeatedly against her eyes, Draco would break through his hard and cold demeanor and hold her hand. He would be there. He would look her in the eyes, and she would see a great deal of encouragement. Still no words spoken, still no conversation exchanged. Their company was enough.

Unlike her, Draco had not covered the lively ink on his skin with a bandage. And whenever he were to gaze upon it with the ruffling of his robes, he would stop in his actions as a great pang of nausea hit him, mind numbing with the echoes of the screams reverberating in his ears. She would be there to cast a quick vanishing spell, one which would temporarily make his skin a perfect pale, no scars, no reminders.

He wished his skin would stay like that forever, but he it wasn't how it was meant to be. He hadn't covered his skin so he could fight the nightmares, fight the memories and his demons which threatened to crawl out any moment, he needed to face them, it was the price he had to pay, for the rest of his life. He would forever try to escape the haunting memories which threatened to break his mind, but there was no choice. He wanted to be strong, he wanted to be heard, he wanted to be normal, once more.

With the companionship of the granger, always giving him a reassuring glance whenever he acted even a bit off, he was grateful. She was sharp, and would not miss if he accidentally his hand would flinch as another memory came to pass while taking notes in class, messing up his notes. She would not miss as sometimes he would close his eyes, blocking out the world, thinking of deeper darker things. She would not miss how sometimes he missed his step and almost fell, she would not miss any false movement. In another life he would have been annoyed her sharpness, ask her to mind her own business, ask her to leave him alone, but right now he knew he needed it: her attention. He felt good not hiding somethings from the people around him. It felt good to just be who he was (it was still a mystery unsolved, but he was making progress) and not hide, not carry the burden of a giant task, not hiding his weaknesses for the fear of the dark lord or for the fear of anyone. It was alright if she saw him struggle, she would pocket the memory in a corner of her mind, not revealing a word, something that existed only between the two of them.

Same as her though, he would watch her closely as well. He would watch as sometimes her otherwise steady hand shook with every word she wrote, how sometimes when a professor was asking a question she would not raise her hand even if she knew the answer. How, sometimes her eyes would glaze over and she would put her hand under her jaw, staring into no weher and not pay attention to what the professor was saying; all of this happening for the whiff of a moment before her mind regained control and she went back to being the ever resilient Hermione granger. It was little things like these that gave away her persona, little things too unnoticeable for anyone, unless they were watching closely. Just like him, she didn't mind when he shifted beside her, moving only the fraction of an inch so he could set his steady gaze upon her and told her it would be okay (he did not know for sure either, but it felt good to reassure someone, he could almost make himself believe so too, almost). She did not mind when sometimes he would see the dropping of a lone tear which she would quickly wipe away. However, what bothered her most was when the shifting of her robes bared the pale bandage of her arm, concealing dark events of a day they both remembered all too well. Whenever his gaze landed upon the bandage, his face would darken, his features would crease, his eyes going from being the grey of a storm to an almost black. Hermione could not tell sometimes if the scar haunted her more, or the boy sitting beside her. She would not waste a second in covering up. She needed to work on it though, she was getting sloppier.

And so the weeks rolled in, from summer to fall to the tiny particles of sprinkled snow covering every bared thing, and they found confiding in each other for better, and for worse.

The first time he spoke to her, he could not remember why, but it was one rainy day in potions when they were made partners for a difficult potion they had to brew. Her hair was wilder, dampened from the walks across the gardens in the light drizzle, they became uncontrollable. It was that day she looked a bit happier than most, if happy were the right word to use anyway. Both of them were, contrary to belief, were actually enjoying making the 'difficult' potion. Working in perfect harmony, their silent coordination a giant asset which the rest of the class did not possess. In the short time they had spent in each other's company, both of them became fairly aware of how the others mind worked, they could tell what each could do best and moved onto their tasks. It was a silent world they lived in, but it was a silence of them needed. Silence spoke louder than words, and the silence that surrounded them like a shroud, it contained all the unsaid secrets, the horrors, along with the encouragement, the reassurance, the likeliness, the forgiveness. It conveyed all that needed to be said, and nothing escaped their small company. It was perfect, and they did not need anything more.

It was on that day Draco was amazed by how far they had come, though neither was any close to getting over their living nightmares, both of them had found consolation in each other's presence. It surprised him that life had taken such a turn, they who were enemies before, now working together perfectly. The potion they had made was 'absolutely perfect', as stated by professor Slughorn himself with the proud and cheeky smile of his. It amazed Draco, how the two with such intertwining pasts, both leading to the destruction of what they loved had led them to each other, finding themselves in a different light, in a different world than they had known. How, two individuals who hated each other with such vigor now worked together as if they had their entire lives, although the actuality had been the entire opposite. He felt a giant surge of gratitude, amazement and a tiny amount of joy. It was that day that they had left potions both with slight smiles on their faces. And it was that day he moved over his hand to hers, not because she needed it and neither because he did too, but just for the sake of it. She stopped right in her tracks as he did so, and leaned over to her and whispered, "Thank you. For everything." He walked right off in front of her, stopping when he saw she was not with him, and turned to face her questioningly. He stiffened posture relaxed as he saw her face break into a shy smile, growing into one of the larger, jaw breaking ones. It was then, that after what seemed like an eternity, he did the same. He did something he hadn't quite done before, and smiled. A true, genuine smile that lifted his features, and for a moment as both of them stood there they forget their sorrows, truly and completely happy.

It was a ground breaking moment for the both of them.

•••


	7. five

The weeks of winter passed and the orange hue of the environment bleached into a blinding white, snow covering every bit of the ground and forming a thin slip over the window sills, the trees bare and white. The Hogwarts castle was illuminated by warm yellow lights, the interior warm and welcoming, a sharp contrast to the chilled and icy exterior.

Hermione loved the snow. She loved breathing in misty fog, she loved it when her cheeks burned with the chill of her surroundings. She loved the whiteness of her surroundings, so pure and untouched, so full of life and enjoyment. She loved every bit of winter, she loved walking out in the mornings, she loved drinking hot tea and adored the embraces of the fuzzy sweaters.

  •••  

Draco didn't have any particular feelings when it came to the weather, but he did have to admit winter was one of the best times of the year. It was when snowball fights reached another level of seriousness, it was like  _war._ And seeing it firsthand, he could not say to what extent it was true. The entire white surroundings reminded him of nothingness, emptiness, a clear and undisturbed view of everything. It was peaceful, and peace was something rare, but when it came he treasured every moment of it.

  •••  

Warm beverages, sweaters and the entire environment as a whole was a delightful sight, and even during the darkest moments of their lives they had enough mind to enjoy what was indeed a wonderful time.

They still hadn't talked to each other much, just brief words and explanations here and there. Their quiet companionship had become so much more as the days passed, they were now more than just faces from the past. They were more than enemies drawn close, could they be called friends? Neither could answer that question. They were each other's constants: someone who were always there, a helping hand, a reassuring glance, a playful smile and an understanding features. They were something so different and close and just so indescribable that both of them preferred not to think about it. It was better that way, the mystery.

It was when Christmas time came around, when the crowded halls of the castle were left barren and unoccupied as the students left the premises for the homes; to their families, that both the teenagers could feel the loneliness seep back in.

For Hermione, it was the thoughts of her friends, and her parents, both lost and god knows where, that made her smile a little less. She would miss her parents so incredibly much, and Christmas brought back the many jolly memories she was afraid she could never make again that she could not enjoy the winter breeze, or her cup of warm tea. She would miss the burrow, its warmth and coziness, she missed having Molly Weasley take care of her and she missed spending time with their generous family. She missed every good moment spent in those castle walls and outside of them, every memory carried by the breeze as she walked through the open halls of the castle.

And it only brought the nightmares back.

  •••  

Draco wasn't much of a festive person and he did not have much regard for the celebrations and traditions the season had brought, but all those faces he saw in the hallways who were ecstatic at the thought of going home, it made him miss home a lot more. He won't return there, of course not. That house carried more nightmares than his mind could ever remember, and he did not wish to face the somber face of her mother, left alone due to the absence of her father. He would rather stay here and spend his time alone. But the cold evening s brought back happier memories, memories of Christmas eve when his mother would sing him songs on their piano, give him gifts wrapped and boxed in elegant paper, it was these memories that made him slightly homesick. He planned on spending the break all by himself, wandering the forest that surrounded him. He never had done so before, but this time, being his last year the integrity had gotten the better of him. He would, as soon as Hermione left would search and wander the forest. He didn't know why, maybe it was the serenity of his surroundings, the quiet sounds of nature in the stillest of seasons that called to him; gave him peace. He wanted nothing more than walk the forest, and it was unusual, he thought so, for it was the first time he ever wanted to do so.

 _You're not the same,_ he thought to himself.  _Nobody is anymore. Change should be good,_  he assured himself, though obviously he didn't know anything for sure.

A day before the holidays began, Draco found the school almost entirely empty. Most of the students had left for their homes, and he found himself wandering one of the large Hogwarts gardens. He found himself walking past a large fountain, the water frozen in the pool and a thin film of frost covering its edges. He wiped a hand on the surface of the pool, wiping off the frost and meeting eye with his own reflection.

He looked... different, he thought. His face was the same, the ever pale with strong, sharp features. His hair had grown longer and was peeking out from underneath his hat, but nothing other than had changed  _physically._ However, he found himself staring and saw that the creases on his face had lessened. His brows were no longer furrowed as they always had been. His shoulders did not seem as stiff and upright, and his eyes did not seem as dark as they used to. He would have stared longer if he didn't hear the shuffling of footsteps behind him.

  •••  

Hermione had been roaming the halls, mindlessly wandering from corridor to corridor. She was sure Draco would have left by then, all the trains would have left an hour ago, there was no point in seeking him.  _Besides,_ she thought,  _one shouldn't be dependent on another._ She had made a list in her head, of all the tasks she had to these holidays, now that she wasn't with her parents.  _I've done most of the homework, except the charms essay, and I have to do some reading in defense against the dark arts, Magical history..._ _ummm_ _, no I did that last_ _week-_ her train of thought abruptly stopped as another thought came to mind, that to of the previous week. Her mind went to a green package up in her room, a  _gift._ She was skeptical about gifts, but what harm could a simple gift cause? She had spent hours on that, and only hoped the person would like it. It was holiday season after all, and there was no one left for her to give anything to, so she thought she might as well give it a go. Suddenly, she felt nervous and twitchy. Her walk through the open hallways was interrupted as she saw a jet black figure against the sharp white of the snow. Stopping with a jolt, she heaved a sigh when she saw a familiar mane of white blonde hidden under a black cap.  _Why was he here?_ Hermione thought, but the answer came as soon as the question.  _He couldn't._ He stood against the frozen marble fountain, staring at his reflection. She took in a deep breath and crossed the threshold into the white snow towards him.

  •••  

He turned abruptly, and was shocked to come face to face with Hermione, all wrapped up in layers of sweaters, a hat keeping her curls at bay. Why hadn't she left? All the trains would have left by that time in the afternoon, wasn't she supposed to go to her boyfriend, the weasel?

 _Boyfriend._ The thought made him grimace.

 _Or her parents you dimwit,_ he called himself.

He straightened his face turned away as Hermione trudged behind him and sat down on the cold surface of the marble fountain. He wondered if he should ask her anything, it was her life after all. He wanted to ask, but was afraid. He didn't know why.

Eventually, curiosity go the better of him and he said, "Why are you here?"

She didn't answer, for a while and he started to think if she was even there. He turned around to see her staring at the ground, contemplating and weighing her options.

"The Weasleys, they don't live where they used to anymore. I cant go there anymore." she looked up as she answered. "I don't know where my parents are, so not there either."

He nodded and walked over to her, sitting beside her.

"Mr. Weasley, he got a promotion. He needs to travel. Ron and harry are out of the country. They're training for aurors." She continued after a while. The information left him astounded. The Weasleys,  _promotion?_ That was an interesting development. He didn't know how to feel about it.

Potter and the weasel, aurors. Huh, he thought. Fitting, for them. What made him wonder was why she was still here? Why had she chosen to come back to Hogwarts?

She didn't ask him about his reasons though, she didn't need to. She was smart, and had made deductions. She knew.

"I-I still have your jacket, though," she said. He turned to look at her and saw her looking earnestly at him. At first he couldn't quite remember what she was saying, but then he remembered, that night on the stairs he had given her his jacket. He saw as she sifted through her pockets ad brought out a small pouch, obviously enchanted for when he put her hand in it went deeper that the actual minuscule depth of the small pouch. He saw a she protruded out her arm, and in her hands his dark jacket, perfectly ironed and folded.

She kept the jacket in her lap and fiddled with the seams. "I-I wanted to return this earlier but I didn't know-"

"Keep it," he said. "I have loads of them. All the same," he said. He hadn't even thought about the jacket since then, it was such a minute and irrelevant detail. He saw as she turned to him, a blush creeping up on her cheeks. She laughed lightly. "What would I do with this jacket? I don't need it, Draco, I have plenty of sweaters of my own." She said she moved it over his lap, waiting for him to take it from her.

"No. take it." He said firmly. He didn't quite know why he did that, he just knew he had too. It felt, strangley right for her to have a part of him. A memory, one that would remind her of how they found each other. How they were there for each other when they needed it most. How  _he_ was there for  _her,_ one frightful night. A night where the potter and the weasel were gone, and he was not. He would have liked it if she kept it.

His thoughts halted. Why would he want her to remember him? Yes she had apparently forgiven him and they had a strong bond, but... he assumed they would part ways once school was over. Why did he, suddenly want her to have a piece of him? He would remember her though, always. As the brightest witch of their age, the kindest, most loving and wonderful one too. He wouldn't ever forget her. Though her, when shed leave the castle ad return to her friends, he doubted she would remember him. Maybe shed recall him as a passing memory, one that would go as soon as it came. It hurt to think of it that way.

  •••  

Hermione, taking his crisp reply as a sign that he won't argue, hesitantly returned the jacket back to its place in the bag, confused as to why Draco would possibly want her to have it. She sighed as she put the pouch back in her pocket and stared ahead.

She didn't know why he would do such a thing. Maybe in the future when conversation won't be as scarce between them she would ask for an explanation, but for the time being she kept it, slightly happy he had done so.

The source of this giddiness was a mystery to her.

Minutes passed as both of them sat with their hands against the cold marble, breathing in the misty air. After their tiny attempt at a conversation, both of them were clueless as to how to continue it.

  •••  

Draco wanted to talk to her, but he just didn't know what to say. He thought of something,  _a request._ But he didn't know if she would comply. It was an unusual request on his part, and he didn't know how she would reply. It was better than sitting on a cold marble fountain, though.

"Want go to Hogsmead with me?" he said quietly and quickly, before he brief surge of courage ran out.

  •••  

Hermione was somewhat astounded to hear the question. She hadn't expected that at all. Not from  _him,_ at least. However he truth was she did wanted to go to Hogsmead, it was a place Harry, Ron and her would spend loads of winter afternoons together. It was the warmest and coziest place to spend winter, and she absolutely  _adored_ it.

"Yes." She smiled.

  •••  

Draco looked pleasantly surprised with her affirmative answer, and with a small smile, one that could only be seen if one looked closely, he heaved a sigh and got up.

Hermione's smile grew the tiniest bit wider as she got up and accompanied him to Hogwarts entrance, a long way through the giant maze of hallways.

  •••  

"We better hurry, Its almost dark. Professor McGonagall will be so angry if we got there late." Hermione mumbled as both of them were making their way through the snowy paths back towards Hogwarts. She wanted to hurry so as to not anger the headmistress, and she had kept on walking and not turned back to see Draco wasn't following her.

After spending a pleasant afternoon having butterbeer and cookies, and roaming around the still damaged village, conversation cut short as they observed the people around them. How the commoners had ( _or were trying to)_ move on from the damage. Half built roofs and broken windows, crooked houses and tilted doors, yet all the villagers offered was a smile. Warm and welcoming, to all, to their humble home. It was heart warmingly beautiful. A tiny girl had even laughed at Draco and Hermione during their tiny squabble regarding who would pay for the cookies ( _Draco was about to, but Hermione went on a speech about not having any regard for societal convention and seeing as why not a woman should pay. He would have argued, but he knew her well enough to know she would get her way in the end and let her pay instead.)_ and it made them stop and laugh too. It felt wonderful. Hermione's satisfactory smile when she handed over the money had made Draco smile a larger of smiles. Shed looked so wonderful, so  _cute_. Her curls surrounded her face around her scarf and shoulders, damp due to the melting snow. She smelt of coffee and scented candles, her blushing cheeks and bright eyes had made him feel like there was still good in the world. There was still hope, and that all was not lost.

Draco's eyes had widened as he became aware of his thoughts. Why was he thinking of such things? Him, imagining someone as  _cute?_ The idea revolted him, yet he was astounded at how true it was. Why would he think such a thing for Hermione Granger?  _Maybe this was what friendship was like,_ he thought.

It was when they were returning to the castle, warm cups of tea in their hands, that through a tiny ornament in one of the flickering shops had caught Draco's eye. He did not know why it was so special, that it made him stop in his tracks and stare at, ignoring Hermione's rant as she trudged ahead. Still staring, a thought came to him, and on a whim he entered the store.

  •••  

Hermione had stopped talking a while ago and had paid enough attention to figure out Draco was not following her. panic and paranoia seizing her, in a state of frenzy she retraced her steps as she frantically looked for any sign of the boy clad in ebony. She spun her in search for the Malfoy, peeking into shops and alleys. She tried to calm herself and look with a clear, level head. She took deep breaths and went deeper into the village. Just as she turned around she smacked head first into someone.

"Ow!" she exclaimed as she fell back. "I'm so sorry I wasn't looking where I was goin-"

"Hey, G _ranger,_  it's  _me._ " she heard a familiar sharp voice and looked up to see the Malfoy she was looking for. "What are you doing here? I thought you went ahead to the castle?" he asked, honestly confused. Slightly distraught, Hermione took a while to reply.

"I-I was looking for you, I thought you-" she started waving her hands as she talked. She didn't know what she had thought though, what had compelled her to look for him in such a state of frenzy. She took a deep breath and told him what was on her mind, "I thought something horrible happened. Don't disappear like that again, alright?"

He smiled. "It's okay Granger. I left something at the shop. Went to get it back. Now, if don't wanna stick around, we might as well get back. The headmistress would be furious," he exclaimed with in a slightly happier tone, and Hermione stood staring as he walked past her slowly ahead, enough pace for her to join him. She shook her head and tried to push back the questions that swarmed her, and raced ahead to join his stride.

  •••  

Draco had done his best to hide his smile. He fiddled with the long object in his coat pocket, and wondered if his spontaneous decision would be a good one.

Heck, it was holiday season. Of course it would.

  •••  

As the days passed, Draco became more aware of Hermione and her actions. How her eyes would squint as she laughed or smiled, how her bounced as she walked, he noticed anything and everything about her. he found himself wishing he could see her smile more,  jolting with the thought and wiping it away as soon as it came. He thought of how he wanted to spend more time with her, as if he already wasn't spending his entire day with her. he would find himself wishing her could hear talk, always and nonstop. He would reprimand himself with every wish, yet he still found himself thinking of her most of the time.  _At least his mind was clearer of heavier thoughts,_ he wondered.

They would spend entire afternoons and mornings, with no classes they would roam he forest for as long as they liked. They would talk sometimes, recalling memories, long and forgotten, as if from another life. They would laugh and smile and cry as well, a mix of emotions as they roamed the snowy land. They would relish in the peacefulness of their surroundings, and in the company of each other.

Hermione found herself taking note of Draco's every action, every swift and curt movement, long strides and sharp actions and tiny little habits. She could name them all alphabetically, one by one, her list constantly expanding as the time they spent together increased. She liked it when he smiled, the slightest twitch of his lips spoke miles to her, it spoke of hope and improvement, of  _escape._ It also made her heart flutter at the the thought that he was comfortable enough to show her how he really felt, around  _her. S_ he could not place the feeling, but chose to ignore it when it came.

During those weeks of chilled Christmas, it was easy to forget about their pasts, their nightmare and all that they were afraid of. For the time being, it was just them and the festivities of the season.

Christmas eve was a wonderful occasion, the hall was enchanted so little snowflakes fell all around them and a slight wind blew, yet no body was cold. The dinner was immaculate, a grand feast they talk of in books. The four long tables were full of every type of eatable ever imagined, he candles burnt a little brighter and the faint songs of Christmas played in the background.

Both the Malfoy and the Granger played smiles on their lips, as they ate side by side on the Gryffindor table thinking of what was to come, and for the first time in months they weren't afraid of their future.

The headmistress observed them from the head table, a smile of her own gracing her lips. Two of her top students, two of such contrasting backgrounds and mentalities, and yet such a wonderful pair. She almost laughed at fate, and how the stars played such an interesting game and brought those two together. Mcgonagall saw potential to be great in both of them, and her expectations were high among the stars, but she knew both of them needed support and a slight push. They could learn heaps from each other. Granger could help Malfoy with his future, clearing his name. Malfoy could help Granger with her insecurities. She smiled at the silent pair, and watched as Hermione jokingly rubbed Draco's cheek with a blob of mashed potatoes and him wincing in retreat, wiping it away with his wand and returning the favor by magically sticking a cherry onto Hermione's nose. It was a small squabble, none too noticeable, but nothing left the headmistress' watch. She prayed to the stars that wonderful night, for the best of both of them. She hoped they'd see the best of the world, and the best of each other.

  •••  

The feast was a marvelous affair. Maybe it was the giddiness of the upcoming holiday, or the the chiming of the bells, or the sounds of the Christmas carols ringing in her ears, she and Draco had the best of times. Hermione teased him, expecting silence or maybe an irritant glare in her direction, but she was surprised to see him reciprocate with little food fights of his own. Dinner was the least eventful, but for them the company was enough. Each finally felt at peace, like nothing mattered more to them than the person sitting beside them.

  •••  

Draco could not help but feel warm when Hermione smiled and ate her favourite pudding, magically adding it to his own plate just for a taste. he could not stop himself when he saw there was still some cherry juice on her nose and wiped it away with his own hand, startling her in the process. He felt oddly fond of her. for a brief moment he thought how if his father was her e he would object, call him a coward and a disgrace. But he pushed the thought away, he ad established long ago that he no longer cared for his fathers thoughts. They were flawed as any humans could be, not implying that his views were perfect, but he was eager to learn and correct himself for the better. He no longer cared that the girl beside him was a muggle born. He no longer  _cared at all,_ for no one other than the witch sitting beside him, and back home home, for his mother. Them and only them. The thought was enough to put a smile on his face.

  •••  

Hermione felt giddy and flushed at the happenings pf dinner table. She could see how the Malfoy stared at her with a fondness, a fondness she had oh so dearly missed. She could tell he watched her every move, as he could tell she was just as observant as himself. Strange, she thought, how he no longer had any regard for blood status. She did not complain.

It was after dinner the two went on their promised nightly stroll among the hallways. Walking aimlessly, Draco observed Hermione from the corner of his eye. She looked like a strong warrior walking with her back straight, the moonlight accentuating her features, her sharp cheekbones, slender nose and beautiful brown eyes. She looked beautiful. He had never seen her in that light before, but would not lie when he thought of her as beautiful, or even highly attractive. She was and he couldn't deny it. He kept peeking glances at her and he could tell she knew, shed been doing the same.

Draco was difficult to see if not for the moonlight, his dark clothes melting in with the shadows, his movements swift and graceful,  _just like how a prodigy should be._ His features shown with the light of the moon, strangely pale and almost ghost like. His blonde hair shone like waves in the light of the moon. Hermione could not stop looking at strong, sharp features, softened by the current events. He looked handsome, a prince if you would call it, with his back straight and most elegant posture.

Hermione shook herself out of her thoughts.  _What are you thinking?_ She thought, but she did not answer, she  _could_ not answer. Instead, she tried to focus on the music that was still playing up in the halls, louder in that region of the castle. She swayed on her feet, greeting the music like a dear friend.

Draco saw that Hermione had a certain skip in her step as they reached a part of the castle where the music was evidently louder. He saw twist her feet and spin around to the music, and he smiled.  _Is she seriously dancing? In the middle of a hallway?_

He smiled at her, and she stopped when she saw him staring.

"Haven't seen a girl dance, Malfoy?" she said, obviously blushing under the moonlight as she tucked a stray hair behind her ear.

"Oh I have, Granger, but non so horribly," he replied cheekily.

Her face contorted into one of mock horror, Hermione could almost not believe her ears.  _Darco Malfoy, making a joke? Ha!_

"Spare me Draco, you probably cant tell your left foot from your right. I bet you are worse than I am," she chuckled. She saw his eyes glint with the mention of a challenge, and he smiled too.

"Wanna bet Granger? Lets dance," he said as he swiftly grabbed her by the waist and swung her to the music.

Hermione yelped at the sudden movement, but she grabbed his shoulder and regained her balance as quickly as she lost it.

They moved, faces those of immense seriousness, and twisted and turned with the music. It was when their eye met for a little longer than ten seconds that they both burst out laughing. Slowing to a stop, Hermione stood with her head on his left shoulder and one hand on his right, the other hand holding his with his other on her back. She felt his laughter right above her head, and he felt hers right beside his.

"Not bad Malfoy, not bad. I am seriously impressed," Hermione joked.

"Well then I win the bet, obviously. Though you are not as bad as I envisioned." He replied with a cheeky smirk. They started moving once more, slow and to the rhythm.

"Well, I learnt how to dance with my mum once, we were supposed to go to a wedding and I was dreadful, and we  _had to_ dance. My mum had blisters in her toes by the end," she finished with a chuckle.

Draco laughed too, a sound less heard, but soothing once it was. "I can imagine that happening. My mother taught me too, matter of fact. A pure blood must be perfect at everything, and nothing less," he said as his eyes went darker, smile lessening and voice lowering to an almost whisper.

Hermione was worried, so she tried to cheer him up. "Well, you couldn't have been that bad. I once danced with Ron, and I swear to Merlin my feet ached for weeks to come! He couldn't stop stepping on me!"

Draco smiled once again, his eyes still dark, but he was there, with her and listening. "I'm really not that surprised the Weasley was shite at dancing," he said while giving her a twist. Hermione laughed.

She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder once more. They were quiet for a long while, lost in their own thoughts.

"I miss them," Hermione said, breaking the silence after a long while. She felt him tense under her.

"I imagine you would," Draco said, his voice clipped.

"I know you don't like them, whatever the circumstances, and I wont force you too. It's okay. It's just that, when I made the decision to come here, I knew how alone I would get. I thought I would get over it. It turned out to be much harder than I thought," Hermione started. She moved her head to look him in the eye. He listened closely, features slightly worried, grey eyes dark and shadowy. Hermione paused and smiled at him. "I never thought I would find a friend in  _you,_ Draco. Thank you so much, for everything. I don't know what I'd be without you," she said and she hugged him. they stopped moving and stood there, silent. Draco's eyes widened and it took him a while to register her words, and then he too wrapped his arms around her. he allowed himself a smile, and closed his eyes momentarily, basking in the warmth of the moment, one that made his stomach churn and heart beat faster, for reasons still unknown to him.

  •••  

Walking back to the Gryffindor common room, hand in hand, Draco paused at the staircase, a few steps below the entrance. They heard the giant castle shaking with the  _ding_ of a magical clock, marking three minutes till midnight.

"I-I got you something," Draco said sheepishly. "A gift. For Christmas," he said, not meeting her eye. Hermione was astonished, her mouth wide open and eyes wide open. Her heart raced with the sudden revelation, and she squealed with glee.  _Draco Malfoy getting her a present? What miracles will the world show her!_

"Oh my God Draco, you didn't need to!" she exclaimed.

"Of course I needed to, its Christmas," he said and from his jacket pocket brought out a neatly packed box, wrapped in emerald.

_Two minutes till midnight._

He handed her the box, her shaking fingers hesitantly accepting the gift. She glanced at him once before neatly tearing the wrap open, and revealing a black velveteen box inside. She felt the sides for the latch, and moments later opened the box.

Inside was silver chained necklace, glittering and beautiful in the moonlight. Held at the bottom of the elongated box was a pendant, a dark and beautiful rose. The rims set with glittering diamonds, she would have not seen it for it meted with the pitch of the box. She caught her breath as she felt the pendant underneath her finger tips.

"Draco, this is, this is absolutely  _beautiful."_ She said, looking up at him.

He looked up from the floor and caught her eye. He smiled. "Its- its enchanted. It, um, changes with your emotions. Like when you're happy it will move, spinning slowly. When you're angry it would grow and spin faster," he moved one step up, closer to her as he explained. "it shrivels when you're sad, but the petals will regrow when you're normal again," he moved another step up, level with her.

_One minute till midnight._

"And, if you look at something you love, it will grow. Its petals will move as if they're against a light breeze. Shall I?" he said, extending his hand forward.

Hermione smiled and gently took out the necklace and handed it to him. She turned with her ponytail set to the side. Draco clasped the necklace and turned her around.

He bent down slowly and kissed her cheek.

_Midnight._

"Merry Christmas, Hermione," he said and smiled. Hermione, blushing and red, returned the smile.

He turned and went down the stairs.

With thoughts of each other running in their heads, they both found themselves sleeping more soundly, dreaming of all things wonderful.

  •••  

Christmas morning came and the hallways of Hogwarts castle sung, the candles danced and the breeze blew a little lighter. Everything and everyone was jolly and wonderful and  _perfect._

For the first time Hermione and Draco both woke up with pleasant thoughts in their heads, actually anticipating the upcoming day.

  •••  

Draco wore his usual suit and walked out of the dungeons with a purposeful stride, his back straight and head held higher then he had in months.

  •••  

Hermione woke up and got ready in a hurry, screaming merry Christmas at every face she saw (which weren't many). She still wore the rose necklace, and it moved with an elegant swirl. She pu on her hat and scarves and hurried out of the common room, before pausing and running back to her room to grab a package she had forgotten to deliver last night.

He was in front of the great hall when he saw her, and their gazes met. She smile a jaw breaking smile and tackled everyone in her way and ran towards him.

He was slow to react when she wrapped her arms around him and held him in a bone crushing hug. He laughed as they spun with the impact, his arms held tightly around her, preventing her from fall.

"Merry Christmas!" she sang in his ears. He laughed and put her down, his arms still around her. she stared at him with wide eyes and produced a red wrapped package.

"A gift! You got me one but I forgot to give you yours last night. Nothing extravagant like yours, it's a scarf I made myself and I don't know, I hope you'll like it," she talked quickly and Draco laughed, one hand on her shoulder.

"Hermione, thank you. So much." He smiled.

They stood there as Hermione hugged him once more, and everyone at the professors table smiled a they saw the pair.

Neither knew of it, but their hearts were on a different path than their minds, and soon they wold turn too. But for the time being it was just the two of them in the flickering lights and the breezy hallways, basking in each others presence. For a moment, they forgot of all their inner torments, and lived in the moment, unafraid of their futures for the first time in months.

  ••• 

 


	8. six

Holding hands, peeking glances, shy smiles and rosy cheeks; all became a norm after the days of Christmas. Hermione's heart swelled with the sight of Draco, his placid face breaking into a smile as he saw her coming. And Draco could too, smiled as he would see Hermione coming towards him with such enthusiasm, and it would make him even happier to see the necklace he gave her spinning, round and round and round with the steady beat of her heart. They felt better than they had ever since those dreadful years, and were finally able to accept the sorrows of their past and move on, onto a new beginning: one with them, a handful of words, peeking emotions and most of all,  _a happiness_  they craved ever since they set foot into the castle.

Hermione found herself anticipating the following days, she found herself regaining the control on her mind she thought she had lost forever. She no longer broke down into tears with the thought of her lost ones, however she did feel a strong pang in her chest, but it was no longer unbearable. She liked to think her friends were there, accomplishing more than what they had achieved. It made her cry, but smile as well. She thought more about the present these days; dread would not settle on her shoulders when the occasional letter came by, the nightmares decreased, she ate more than usual and she would not allow nostalgia to affect her.

It was difficult, but she managed it. She still hadn't recovered completely, but her progress astonished her. When she had first come, she hadn't moved from classroom to classroom without the frantic beating of her heart. she would snap at even the tiniest sounds, the dark had scared her and every moment she felt as if she was suffocating, that anytime the walls would collapse and bury her in her nightmares. Hermione's heart swelled at the thought of her progress, only one face coming to mind when she thought of it. One of blonde hair and a pale face, the face of an old foe that she never thought would mean so much to her as he did now.

He had suffered so much, being on the wrong side, making all of the wrong decisions and losing all his friends; his family broken to shreds. At least she still  _had_ her family, though they may not remember her, and so many of her friends still. Her heart broke for him. She wanted nothing more to shield him from the unfairness of the world, to rid him of his horrible mark. She wanted to help him as much as he had helped her.

He was her shoulder to cry on, he saved her, so many times from herself, from the memories, from the agony. His constant presence was all she needed to know she was not alone. She knew she had friends who were waiting for her, rooting for her. But being in  _sight,_ is different than being in  _mind. Seeing_ someone root for you, help you, is  _so much more_ than simply  _knowing_ they would. Harsh truth, but true nonetheless. It was much more powerful, much more impactful. Draco had given her just that, it was all that she had needed.

Though, since the past months he was not only in sight, but Draco had found his way into Hermione's mind as well. She found herself thinking of him as she wrote her essays; wondering what he would say if she showed him the silly topic. She went to sleep with his picture in mind, caught herself staring whenever he smiled. She would wait for morning to come so she could see him, make sure he was alright. She looked forward to their nightly stroll more than anything during the day. She loved being with him, and just the thought of him caused a smile to spread across her face, and she would find herself thinking of far off things, far off places, scenarios she knew would never come true, but she couldn't stop herself from imagining them.

•••

Draco too, felt things he hadn't before. After what seemed like centuries, he was able to sleep. He did not hear the dark lords laughter when he closed his eyes, did not hear the screams and the forbidden curses ringing in his ears. There was an emptiness, an emptiness he craved. He finally had the peace of his own mind.

He did not dread the long walks in the hallways, the taunts and haunting glances not bothering him as much as they did anymore. He felt so much surer of himself that finally, somehow he was on the right path. And he owed it all to Hermione Granger. it wasn't that he had magically become a perfect human being over the course of months, but he did find himself thinking of happier, positive thoughts, and he had only one person to thank; someone who had made her way into his mind just as he had made his way into hers. Someone who taught him that forgiveness was possible, that  _redemption_ wasn't as impossible as it seemed.

The only dread in his mind was facing his family, going back to the manor, but that would be resolved in time.  _He hoped._

For the time being he thought only of what was at hand.  _Hermione._ She was the only reason he looked forward to the following day, looked forward to dinner and classes. Sitting at the Gryffindor table had become so much easier, he did not have any regard for the curious gazes and the hateful stares. He only had regard for the company of the Granger, who needed him as much as he needed her.

He found himself less angry, less resentful, less  _evil._ He had found his peace once more, and wouldn't risk it, not for anything.

Draco would too, time and time again, find himself thinking of her. Her smile played before his eyelids as he slept, her laughter lulling him to sleep. The vicious scenes that played before his closed lids vanished, replaced with only one face of her laughter. A scene replaying in his mind on repeat. He did not mind it, though. She was so different than his previous company, it was a relief and a break from all the bad, all the evil, it was like breathing in fresh air after years of suffocation.

He enjoyed every bit of their time together, a treasure he would not risk, not for all the jewels in this world.

•••

It was one day in mid-January, when both faced a realization, something they were too afraid of acknowledging. They were walking out from potions that afternoon when Professor Slughorn asked them both to stay behind. Confused, they complied as they waited for the class to pile out.

Finally, as only the three of them were left, the professor turned to them with a glint in his eyes. A giant smile on his face, he said, "Ah yes. Granger, Malfoy, two of my top students. I have a task for you, if you don't mind."

They looked at each other, wondering what it could be. "Yes professor?" Hermione asked.

"I have to run several important tasks this afternoon, and I'm afraid I won't, be able to take a very important 6th year class. Due to my distrust of substitutes and I wish not to waste a moment of the youngsters' time, I would like the two of you to take over the class for me."

Both of them stood astounded, eyes wide at what they heard. "Bu-but professor how on earth could  _we_ teach 6th years? We won't be capable of-" Hermione started

"Nonsense! You two are perfectly capable of it. I trust you both, and it would be a great favor. And if you are worried about missing your next class, I have talked to Professor Flitwick. You two are both above expectations, and way above the rest of the class. He would not mind if you miss one for me. professor interrupted.

Not knowing what to say, and seeing how the professor would not change his mind, they stood there: speechless. The professor, took that as an affirmative answer and grinned from ear to ear.

"Marvelous! Twenty points to both Gryffindor and Slytherin! I want you to give me an accurate report tomorrow morning! And all the details of the class are on my desk. I better leave right now, I would hate to be late! Thank you, children." He smiled, standing up and gathering his things, leaving them alone in a few minutes.

As soon as he left, Draco spoke their minds. "What the hell is wrong with him?  _Us?_ Teaching  _6th years?"_

Hermione shrugged, not wanting to say anything rude. She thought of the bright side, "At least we got house points. And I reckon it would be a good experience, you know, for our careers."

"Do  _you_  plan on teaching, Granger? I sure as hell don't." Draco replied.

"Come on Draco, it couldn't be that bad. How hard could it be?" Hermione said, trying to make the situation less dull, and smiled. She walked over to the desk where the details of the class were written in the professor's messy scrawl. "Now, let's see what we have to teach. I hope it's nothing we can't han-" she stopped short when her eyes scanned the topic for the afternoon class.

"What is it?" Draco said, walking over to her.

Taking one deep breath, she handed him the paper. "We have to teach them amortentia."

The surprise on Draco's face imminent and was soon replaced with mild annoyance. "The  _love potion?_  Has he lost his mind?"

"Shut up Draco, it's a difficult potion, but I'm sure nothing we can't handle. I mean, we've done it before,  _and_ we don't really have much of a choice."

"Yes we do, I say we ditch it, the old man's not even her-"

" _Draco."_

 _"_ What? Don't tell me I'm wrong Gran-"

"Oh look, here come the students!" Hermione interrupted, pointing a finger behind him. And she was right, behind them they saw a great many sixth years pooling in to the classroom. Draco sighed and stared at her, asking her if she was serious. Hermione smiled and whispered, "Now you  _don't_  have a choice." She smiled brightly and walked past him towards the students. As soon as she left though, Draco's annoyed demeanor diminished and he let out a chuckle, shaking his head. With a wave of his wand he picked up the two steaming cauldrons of amortentia and turned to follow her to the front of the class.

They waited for the class to fill in, and Hermione addressed the students. "Good morning, students. I'm Hermione Granger, and this is Draco Malfoy," the class burst into a wave of whispers at the mention of his name, but neither gave it any mind. "Professor Slughorn could not make it today, he is on a very important errand, and he asked us to conduct this class today. Before we start, any questions?"

She greeted by silence, and blank stares. So she continued. "Today we will be brewing amortentia. Could anyone tell me what that is?" she waited for hands to rise, and her gaze went to a small raven haired girl at the far back with her hand slightly raised. She pointed to her, saying, "Yes you?"

She replied in a meek voice, "I-it's a love potion, Miss Granger. The strongest potion of all."

"Correct, could you specify its properties a bit more?"

She blushed and looked down at her feet, and answered "It smells like something you are attracted to."

Hermione smiled. "Yes. That is the unique property of this potion. It smells different to everybody, according to what the individual finds attractive. Like, for example, to me," she said and paused for a slight sniff, welcoming the familiar smells, "it smells like parchment, wet ink, freshly mowed grass, toothpaste and-" she paused. The next smell was not something she had smelled years ago. All those years ago, she had smelt the lemony whiff of Ron's hair, but this time it was different. This time, it was a strong scent of an expensive cologne. It was ever so familiar, but she could not place where she recalled it from. Realizing that the class was waiting, she continued. "A-and it would smell different to Draco, or you. It is a fairy difficult potion, and it will take a lot of your attention and intuition for you to be successful. So, open your books to page-"

"Mr. Malfoy," a male voice interrupted. It belonged to one of the cocky boys at the back, and he said in a mocking tone, "what does it smell like to you?"

Draco snapped his head towards him, surprised a question was poised at him. He was well aware of the boy's intentions, and replied him with a glare and a snide remark, "I'd much rather not share. Now if you were listening, I ask you to do as Miss Granger says."

The young boy sat back down, and the rest of the class which had seemed very much intrigued reverted back to their blank stares.

However, Draco could not help but give a slight sniff as he walked past the cauldrons. He wasn't surprised to see the aromas hadn't changed one bit since he last smelt it, years ago.

 _Books, freshly brewed coffee, rain, snow and... roses._ His eyes widened as he processed the scents, eyes widening because, unlike last time, he could clearly point what, or most likely  _who_ the smells lead to. They were so familiar he hadn't ever realized when he'd grown so attached to them, and they all relayed one message to him:  _Hermione Granger._

He stopped in his racks as it him, and all it was all he could do from staring at her figure across the room.

She did smell like new books and coffee, sometimes tea and chocolates as well. What scared him, was the sudden revelation. It made so much sense, the previous few months flashing behind his eyes, he did not know what to think. What he had mistaken for friendship, was actually something much more... and he did not know what to think. His eyes looked up to see Hermione, how she moved her hands while giving an explanation, how her hair bounced with every step she took, every movement. He felt so,  _so_ fond of her, a fondness that had taken over the rest of his emotions. He hadn't realized it before but now he did, someway and somehow the Granger had found her way into his mind, his  _heart_. He did not find himself minding, and allowed himself a slight smile as he looked at her teaching the class.

•••

It was also during the lesson that Hermione remembered where she had smelt that scent before, of the expensive cologne. It stunned her, to know that how it had always been there, walking with her everyday day since that night on the stairs when she had first smelt it. It was there, when she hugged  _Draco_. It was the scent that would invade her nostrils every time she would open her magical pouch. It was everywhere, just like Draco. She stopped in her tracks, her words lost, not knowing what to do with the conclusion her mind had just reached. Her mind had come to an abrupt halt and the class was a blur to her, as she looked across the room at Draco, standing still and quiet as ever and she felt a familiar, yet different as well, fondness towards him. she never thought she would be at this stage ever again, she thought she was beyond it, but here she was, fate laughing at her, and she laughed too, as she saw him standing in the shadows.

She never knew when her brief fascination had grown into so much more... but it made sense. All those months, all those moments, their survival,  _every_ memory she would leave with would be filled with his colors, his scents. And for once, she held no worry for the future as her mind thought of them, and only them, and it didn't feel as wrong as it should have.

•••

Both left the classrooms with shy smiles on their faces, and they were so engrossed in the fantasies of their own minds they did not notice the other.

The next few days were those of utter bliss and ignorance, as they could none could place why the other was acting the way s/he were. It were those days they thought nothing could come between their way, but those days soon came to an end.

It was the day Hermione received her usual letters from her friends, and that broke he two of them from the spells. They were suddenly hit by reality and were tackled with all of the worries they had previous chosen to ignore.

For her, it was the reminder of her status. Rejection did not scare her, but however, their blood lines and social status was an insurmountable obstacle in her path. She realized how important it would be to him, to his family. He had always reminded her with every moment of their pasts of her inferior status, and even though she was above that, and it wouldn't have mattered to her, but she knew it mattered to  _him. E_ ven though he had changed  _so much_ since the war, she knew he would never change enough to go against the most sacred and ancient regulations of his family, and it  _broke her heart._ The  _s_ car on her wrist reminded her of her status in the eyes of his family. It shouldn't have bothered her, she had made peace with their differences long,  _long_  ago, but they never mattered to her more than now.

She wished the thought had never come to her, and she could keep pretending there was nothing between them.

•••

For him, it was the thought of her  _boyfriend_  (the thought made him grimace), the  _Weasley_. Never in his life had he thought he would be jealous of that orange fellow, but the world had shown him that too. One thing he could never have that the Weasley did... and he never thought it would hurt as much. The thought of her leaving, and forgetting him tormented him, haunted his fantasies and the perfect moments.

He knew it would happen, that she would leave and forget him. and it hurt, it really did, but he realised, as the days passed, that regardless of the circumstances, Draco would  _always_  feel the same way for her. She meant so much to him, she did so much for him he could never bring himself to forget her. he would always be there when she would need him to, always be just an owl away even if she left him for her friends, he would always  _love_ her no matter if she reciprocated or not. He knew he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he cut him off entirely, and he knew the knowledge of her never being with him hurt, but he sought it as payback for those countless years of torment. Karma laughed at his misery, and it hurt him more than he knew possible. He knew, for the sake of his sanity he had to care for her,  _love her,_ for nothing in the world made sense other than this, other than  _her._ She would always be in his mind, dancing, singing, laughing, and he would never want it any other way, even if reality betrayed him.

He was falling, and he hadn't been sure of anything more in his life than what he felt right then.

•••

She was falling, but nothing left her as clueless as this.

•••

Weeks and months passed, and no matter what they tried to control their feeling they couldn't. not even a person as skilled at occlumency as Draco could keep her from stealing his heart, with her words, with her smile, her laughter, her eyes, and just the simple purity of her heart. How could he have ever called her a  _mudblood_ , that wretched word, when she had one of the purest hearts he had ever known? He knew the path he was on would lead him to nothing but pain and heartbreak, but he did not care. He could not care when such a spectacle of nature was in front of his eyes every day. He could not stop, and he didn't want to either.

•••

Hermione could not stop her heart from fluttering at the sight of him, running toward him in the hallways, she knew it wasn't right, that nothing could come of it, but it just felt so right that she could not contain it. She could not contain everything she felt, and was ready to face the consequences that was the doomed end.

They were so engrossed in the company of the other, none of them noticed that the rose around Hermione's necklace grew every day, larger... and larger... and larger...

•••

Alas, as they say, all happy things must come to an end, and there's came when they least expected it, when they least wanted it. One dreadful morning had torn through their happiness, their dreams and in one swift motion, all they had achieved wen crumbling down.

It was one fateful day in early march. That morning the Malfoy woke up to stares, whispers and wistful glances: all directed at him. He had gotten used to them, but that day they were raised to an infinite degree. Everyone he passed faced him with fear and curiosity alike, whispers and silence following him everywhere he went. It was worse than his early school days.

•••

Even Hermione did not seem to know why everyone seemed to act so strange, but she could not ask. She had feared the worst, but was afraid of confrontation. She was riddled with anxiety and panic, yet she paid more attention on comforting Draco.

•••

Draco felt a sudden dread settle in his stomach as he saw the panicked faces of the professors, directed at him. He was afraid, of what he might come to hear that day.

It was during a very silent, tense breakfast that Draco received a parcel. Confused, he looked over the label, the sender's identity undisclosed. He opened the cylindrical parcel to reveal a roll of newspaper, the latest version of The Daily Prophet. As his eyes went over the front page, they widened at the horrors that it contained.

_**"DEATH EATER LUCIUS MALFOY FOUND DEAD NEAR DIAGON ALLEY."** _

On the side was a picture of what could be none other than his father, blonde locks sprayed across his beaten up features. Draco's heart stopped and chest constricted. He could not breathe. His eyes glazed over as he skimmed over the rest of the article.

He heard Hermione gasp from his side.

_...reportedly found dead at 4 am last night, diagon alley..._

_...tortured... show signs of asphyxiation..._

_...demanded public execution or Azkaban but with him being no more..._

_...population demands banishment of death eater son, Draco Malfoy who is currently at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, from... to be sent out of the country... questioned to be safe..._

_...we want our streets to be free of death eaters, former, defected or not..._

Draco barely heard Hermione's protests as he left the dining table. He walked, faster and faster, his mind a raging mess. He did not hear her cries, or wait for her as turned a corner out of Hogwarts and into the forbidden forest.

_**population demands banishment of death eater son, Draco Malfoy** _

_**tortured** _

_**signs of asphyxiation** _

_**free of death eaters, former, defected or not** _

All those harsh words ran in his head driving him crazy. The anger, sorrow and sudden sense of loss hit him square in the chest. He did not want all of that to be true, he did not... he  _could not live with himself if everything was as he had read._

He had tried so hard, to redeem himself. To the world that he was a better person, to rid him of his former status. He disliked his father, so much. But he was a nagging constant, one dear to him despite their differences. And him, gone just like that.  _Killed, torture._ He wished his end was a little more respectful, but that was what he done too, hadn't he? He had taken lives of so many just as now his was taken.

Lucius had taken brothers, sisters, mothers and fathers, and now the world repaid him. Draco now knew what it felt like, but it was  _wrong. Still so wrong!_

What difference do they show now? How are they now different from any death eater? He cried and screamed, shouted at the world. Demanding to know when it would end. The backstabbing, killing, revenge, when the world would learn how to forgive, forget and move on? When will the world understand that the people around them have lives of their own, they too had ambitions and plans and loved ones?

But the irony hit him hard. He and the rest of the death eaters had never thought of once, as they tortured and killed their victims. How they took soul after soul, depriving so many people of their loved ones, making them go through the agony, pain and hateful rage.

He cried at his own ill fate. How, no matter how hard he worked he would never be able to rid himself of the dark scar. How, he could even become the noblest of men and still be treated as the scum of the earth. He knew what he had made Hermione go through, and he cried, genuinely cried at the unfairness of the world. He wished nothing more to be accepted just the way he was, but the people demanded his banishment. They did not want him near their children, or even them.

All these past months he had tried his utmost to become a better person, and even then the world won't accept him.  _He was hated, loathed and nobody wanted him to live._

Night fell and he was still in forest, still crying, thrashing, casting mindless spells here and there, the sky was dark with the stars and moon clouded over.

He found himself so full of hate and anger, at himself more than ever. In a clearing free of trees deep in the shadows of the forbidden forest, he found himself wishing he had been on the right side from the start, wishing he had never ever listened to his father and complied with his murderous,  _evil_ orders. He would be alive if he had. If he had been good from the start he wouldn't have had to face such hate from the world. He thought of all the lives that had been taken in front of him, all the relatives killed and tortured in front of his very eyes and how he was unable to stop it. He wished he could have.

His father would still be alive.

He thought of his mother, how she was safe as she never got the dark mark. How her skin was clear of the horror and nightmares.

Stared at his own covered hand, and in that moment ripped off the sleeve in one motion. He stared at the scar, unmoving and dead. Yet still there, and to be there till the day he died. It revolted him, and he found himself in the same position as he had all those months ago. He poised his wand at this bare hand.

•••

Hermione cried as she followed Draco through the castle gates, but he would not listen to her. He was too quick and she lost sight of him as soon as she came near the forbidden forest. She ventured in, screaming his name and staring frantically around, tears streaking her face. Eventually she gave up and fell under a tree, crying, sobbing and holding herself. She sat there for who knows how long, but eventually ventured back to the castle thinking that he might have gone back.

She saw a worried Professor McGonagall at the gates and immediately ran to her.

"Professor, I don't know where he is, I can't find him, you don't know what he'll do himself Professor please help me find him. Ple-"

"Miss Granger please calm down, we  _are_  looking for the boy at the moment. He has gone too far in, Miss Granger, it will not be easy, and it  _will take time_. We're trying our best-"

"Professor please the ministry might come to take him, don't let them take him professor please, he is not a death eater for God's sake! He is a boy, and eighteen year old please do not let this happen professor-"

"Granger,  _Miss Granger listen to me_ ," the headmistress said, giving her shoulders a strong shake and making Hermione look into her eyes. "They are not coming for him Miss Granger, I talked to the minister myself. He was just a boy, no matter what the public say they cannot banish him. You have known the writers of The Daily Prophet for printing events and sayings far from the truth, do not think for one moment that he would ever be banned. He was a boy, and he will go to trial if the situation becomes dire, but he  _will not suffer any consequences for something he was forced into. I_  will make sure of it. Now go and clean yourself up, we need all the help we need to find him."

Hermione wiped her face and nodded, she grabbed her wand from her jeans and followed inside. Her heart shattered, it hurt her to think of him. He could do anything to himself, he was in grave danger and she needed to help him, to run to him. If she could only find where he was.

She ran back to the forest, the headmistress not stopping her, knowing her student well enough to say she could survive the horrors.

Night fell, and Hermione had scoured the forests countless times. She could no longer tell which path she had took, which sightings she had seen and was seeing again. Everything looked the same to her, those dark barked trees all tall and unyielding;  _daunting._ She felt like she was walking in circles.

It was near midnight when her legs had finally given way under her and she sat by a tree, her body shaking from the exhaustion and sorrow. Tear filled eyes stared up to the stars and prayed,  _with all her heart_ to any higher power, to bring Draco back to her safely. Her hand went to the necklace she always had clasped around her neck; she held it tight and screwed her eyes shut and prayed for Draco's well-being.

Moments later, she heard it. A distant cry of pain and the familiar sound of a spell.

On her toes in an instant, she  _ran,_ dodging tree and bush and root and branches, and everything that came at her, she simply ran to where the voice was coming from. As her feet lead her a dark corner of the forest, she stopped in her tracks as a familiar sight greeted her.

Minuscule streaks of moonlight illuminating the dark clothed figure, there she saw him once more, just like she had many months ago: back to her and wand in hand, poised against the skin of his arm.

•••

Draco's mind found relish in the physical pain. He tried and tried so hard to rip off his kin, but he could not do so. He thought about how useless his life was, how everyone wanted him gone.

And so he thought of it, momentarily pausing the torture. His mother was safe, safer if he was gone. He had no one else in the world who cared for him, it shouldn't matter but...

His mind conjured a picture, one of someone he had completely given his heart too. But Hermione too had someone else. The thought came to him quick as ever that it was best for if he was gone too, she had a promising future ahead, but the ministry would never grant her the success she deserved because of involvement with a  _death eater._ It was best if he was gone, wiped from the face of the earth. It would be best for him too, as he would be free of his agony.

He had seen the lives of so many taken, saw so many of his known comrades tortured, killed and locked away and saw his own father dead. It felt horribly wrong for him to stay alive when all those he had ever known were dead, or simply gone. It made sense to him if he went away too.

So it was then that he stopped in his tracks. Closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He said a silent prayer, and a silent apology for all his wrongdoings. He thought of the two people that he actually cared for, and a lone tear left his eye. He hoped the wind would carry his message as he whispered a small goodbye and raised his wand. He stood with his back straight face looking ahead. He raised his wand to his forehead and muttered his last words,

"Avada Kada-"

•••

Hermione saw with mute horror as Draco paused in his actions, stood still for a quiet moment. She heard him mutter what felt like a goodbye and her heart stopped. She saw as he raised his wand to his forehead.

He would not...  _no!_

"Avada kada-"

" _NO!"_ shrieked Hermione and  _ran,_  pointing her wand at him, emitting a wordless spell. The wand fell out of his hand and startled he turned, turned to see her running towards him, wand pointed out and arms outstretched. He met her horrified gaze, holding all the emotions he never ever wanted her to feel. It was all he could register before she crushed him in an embrace and wrapped her arms tightly around him.

She wrapped herself around him, thinking that if she ever let go he be gone, that he would slip away from her fingers and turn to ash and dust and the wind would carry him away from her forever. She felt he would break, fall to pieces right in her arms if she let him go, so for sheer life she  _held on._

"Don't leave me Draco, please, stay with me.  _I love you._ "Came her desperate cry. She did not know if he could hear her, his motionless body dead to the world save for his tiny breaths.

•••

He felt nothing as the world shifted around him, the shadows melting together and rendering him blind. His ears rang, and he could feel himself slip away. As he felt his consciousness slip, all he heard was a singe whisper, her voice a whisper that he would gladly take as the last words he would ever hear.  _"Don't_ _le_ _... Draco... me_

_**I love you** _ _."_

•••


	9. seven

Hermione could do nothing but cry as he fell in her arms, unconscious. Her wrecked mind could not think of what to do as she slid to the ground, his head in her lap. She looked around frantically, wondering who to call. It was then she snatched his wand from his hand and illuminated its tip, thankful the light was enough for her to work with. With her own hand, she wiped the tears off of her face and pointed the wands at the body that lay in her lap. With every wound she healed a surge of pain erupted in her, she could not bear watching him in such agony. But she beard it, for she knew that dawn was a long time coming, and until then, it was just her and his limp body and the darkness.

•••

Draco felt himself stir to nothingness. He couldn't feel, see or hear anything.

He twitched, eyes moving frantically under his lids, unable to open them. When all attempts seem to be for naught, did not try any longer and instead chose to remember what happened, and where he might be. His mind brought back flashes of multi colored lights, curses ringing in his ear, all related to one newspaper article. At the same moment he was reminded of a girl's scream in the forest, his mind also recalled the tragedy that was the death of his father.

At the very moment his eyes burst open. His eyes, still blurry and dry, He blinked but could not see in the dim lights. He could not move, his senses unawaken by the dreariness that consumed him. Only his mind was racing, nerves fully awake. He closed his eyes once more, taking in a deep breath, calming himself. He rolled his head to the side to see where he might possibly be and opened his eyes once more. It took some seconds of vigorous blinking for his vision to clear. It was all a blur at first, of colors, of shapes and lights. It took him a while to register what was before him. His vision cleared to an image of an all too familiar figure lying opposite to him on a separate bed, eyes closed, hair covering half of her face.  _Hermione._ He saw her hand trailing down the edge of her bed, and saw with astonishment that it was curled tightly with his.

His chest tightened with the sight before him, wondering why she had brought him where ever they were.

He remembered seeing her, remembered her tear stricken face running towards him, he remembered the words she had whispered to him before he fell to her lap, and it hurt him even more to know she had not let go of him, even at his lowest, not even for the sake of her own self. He could only imagine how ill and tired  _she_ was, and hence did not try to wake her. He looked away from her features, constricted under the curtain of locks into one of worry and distress, eyebrows knit together and forehead wrinkled.

His chest tightened even more, as he faced the arching ceiling, as he thought more about the newspaper. His vision blurred once more as he thought about it, but this time they had blurred over with tears, thinking of all the pain he would have to go through. How much hermione, his mother would have to go through because of him. He found it harder to breathe and had the sudden urge to sit up, his hands and legs twitching, itching to move.

As he tried to move his hand, he felt a sharp pang of pain run up the length of his arm. He sucked in a deep breath and an involuntary cry of pain escaped his lips.

•••

Hermione was woken from her dreamless sleep by a cry of pain. Immediately alert and senses running wild, she abruptly sat up. Her vision lead her to Draco, lying in a mess of sheets across her, her hand gripping his tightly. His eyes were screwed shut, as if from pain and the sight immediately made her stomach churn.

"You're awake," she said urgently. She crossed the distance between them and sat by his side, still gripping his hand.

He rolled his head to her, squinting. "Does it hurt?" she asked him earnestly.

"A-ar-rm." He mumbled under his breath.

Alarmed, she dropped his bandaged hand and walked over to a shelf at the side, one filled with multi colored bottles. She picked one and went to his side once more, holding it to his mouth.

"I need you to drink this, please." She said as she came and supported his neck a bit higher, urging him to drink.

Draco gulped down the fowl tasting potion. Soon, he felt the pain diminishing and was replaced with only a numb pulsing in his arm.

"Th-thank yo-ou." He stuttered.

Hermione sat back down in beside him and took a good look on his disheveled figure. Face still blood stricken and eyes bloodshot, his entire torso was covered with bandages due to all the curses that had rebounded and struck him. his hair was a mess, and both his arms were bandaged to the shoulders. She had been waiting for him to wake up for so, so long, and now that he had, she didn't know what to say. She was so thankful to the stars above he had opened his eyes.

Hermione did not want to question him on the happenings of that day, she did not want to recall how her crying figure had carried his unconscious body back to the castle, and how a door grew from one of the hallways and revealed a room that contained all that she had needed. She had been there ever since, caring for the boy beside her. She did not know how long it had been since she'd been there, her estimates around a day or two.

The length of her eyes lined with unshed tears as she saw his bandaged torso release a short, pained breath. It hurt her to see him like this, in such agony.

She curled her hands together and placed them on her forehead, breathing heavily as she prevented the tears from falling.

•••

Draco could only gaze at her from his limited vision, a new kind of pain gripping him as he took in her figure. He never had wanted to see her like this, never intended to be the one to make her this sad.

"I'm sorry." he managed to say _._ It was a measly attempt really, a sorry would never be enough for the amount of pain she had gone through because of him. He wished he could do better for her, he really did, but he knew that even if he tried (which he had over the past few months) the cruel world would never let him forget what he was,  _what he will always be._ He was a fool to think the world would accept him, that it would forgive him, that it would allow him to be what he wanted to be after those years of darkness.  _You could never be yourself_ , he thought,  _only what you're supposed to be. Would have been easier and hurt less if I hadn't tried, if I hadn't hoped_. The world would never accept the  _him_ he wanted to be anyway, he would always be regarded as the death eater who ran away.

_He only wanted to protect her from the ridicule of the world, the rejection, the hate and the pain._

_He wanted her to go back to her auror boyfriend, and live the life of happiness she deserved. She did not deserve him._

He loved her, and he would what he thought best to keep her safe, from the cruelty of the world, from  _himself._ From the scar.

She did not answer him, eyes still closed and her hands covering her face. She sniffed and removed her hands, breathing in deeply before answering him.

"Don't-don't ever do this to me again." She managed to mutter.

Draco wished he could say something, give her reasons, explanations, but he found himself at a loss or words. He knew she had figured it out on her own, there was little to say. He opened his mouth to say something when she interrupted him.

"I don't want explanations. What I want," she said, moving closer to him and holding his hands once more, "is for you to understand that you are safe. You are not alone, you are  _loved._ People need you, and nothing,  _nobody_ can make you any less important than you are. No scar, no newspaper." The intensity of the gaze she had looked upon him, the emotion her brown eyes held, they spoke miles to him. He found his heart beating faster and eyes dwelling with tears unshed. He closed his eyes once more as he prepared himself for the reply.

"Her-Hermione. No one, can save me, can save _you,_ from  _this,"_  he said nodding to his right arm. "The world will always see me as the villain, as the one who sided with the enemy. I can never change that. And I don't want  _you_ to be judged for  _my_ actions and past," he choked.

A lone tear fell at her cheek as she answered, "You're  _wrong,_ Draco. The world is still broken, their wounds are still fresh too. They look for the nearest one to blame after the fight is over. All they need is some time. You need to show  _them,_ like you showed me during all these months here that you are more than what your scar shows. You are human, and you are forgivable. I know it will be hard to bear all the pain, but I  _promise you I will be there with you every step of the way._ But please,  _never_ do this to me again. Please."

"Hermione," he said moving his other hand to hers as well. He waited a few moments before her answered, closing his eyes as the pain of the truth hit in the chest. "All you'll ever get by being with me is ridicule and hatred and-"

"You think I care, Draco?" she retorted, her voice still soft and quiet, yet with an undeniable firmness. "Do you really think I care? The world is a cruel, most horrible place and it will try to bring you down countless of times. It will make you feel worthless, pathetic, make you hate yourself so much, judge you for the very fiber of your being. But when you have a person beside you, constantly rooting for you, lo-" she halted in her words. She gulped and continued, "When you have someone who has promised to be there for you, good or bad, and ask only in exchange is the regularity of your breaths, the beating of your heart. Shouldn't that be enough?" she stared at him with such emotion, such woe and such power, he found himself at a loss of words.

She breathed deeply and continued, "I will be there for you, Draco. Always. Because I know I will be able to face any problem, any obstacle the world throws at me, as long as you're by my side. Isn't that enough for you?" her voice broke by the end. She sniffed as the tears fell more rapidly, letting go of his hands and covering her face.

Draco took in the words she had just said to him. he then realized, that she  _did truly love him too._ Enough to risk her future for him. she had promised to help him, just for the sake of him being beside her all the way.

And then suddenly, it did not seem so difficult anymore.

Draco took in a sharp breath as he tried to sit up. Regaining most of his senses by now, he sat up with slight difficulty wrapped his arms around her. He had no words, none at all to say to her. All those words she had set, he felt something shift inside him. All that he felt towards this girl, the one who sat beneath his arms sobbing silently, he channeled to the tightness of their embrace.

"It is enough for me. Now, and always. It will always be enough." He glanced down at her arms, one bandaged like his own. He knew what she had just said to him she must have repeated a thousand times to her own self a long, long time ago. He promised her, that it will be them against the world, that she will always be enough for him, and that he will always be best for her.

His father was dead, but his mother was still alive. The world was far from forgiving him, but tiny steps will take him far, and with Hermione by his side, he knew nothing would be able to stop them.

They spent God knows how long sitting in that trance, and it was long before they broke apart. Draco stared at her as she wiped away the tears and pushed back her hair. She stared up at him with such fondness, such adoration that he knew,  _in his bones,_ that with what they had between them not any one in the entire world could stop them from achieving what they wanted. He knew right then that she could move mountains for him, and that  _he would do the same._  If she was his, than he will gladly face any obstacle thrown at him. She was all he needed, and it would be enough for him if he was all  _she_ needed too.

It every bit of power and courage in his bones to bend down and kiss her.

Alas, during that time a thought broke through his stupor and he moved away from her, by his own side. She looked at him quizzically, but then regained her posture, turning to the side.

The Weasley. She still had her boyfriend.

"Do you really think your boyfriend will approve, Granger?" he asked quietly. He had lost the capability of controlling himself, and the potions she had given him might have had their effect.

Hermione had been unable to think as he slowly bent down and pressed his lips against hers. Her mind came to an abrupt halt, and before she had time to reciprocate he pulled away. Which confused and flushed her even more.

And then he asked her of his boyfriend.  _What?_

Hermione looked flustered, she frowned. "My  _boyfriend?_ I don't have a boyfriend. What are you talking about?"

Draco stood astonished for a few minutes, blinking. "The Weasley, was he not your boyfriend?"

Hermione's features relaxed as recognition filled her eyes. "Oh Draco, were not together anymore. I think I never told you, it was that night on the stairs, remember?"

Realization fell as he recalled that night on the stairs, and suddenly everything made sense. All those months, everything fit into place  _perfectly._ He laid back down with a smile, once more closing his eyes with a smile playing on his lips. He held her hand tightly in his, and for the first time in his life, he felt like he hadn't a care in the world.

It was when he fell asleep and woke once more, Hermione urging him to sit up so she could change his bandages that he gave into temptation and did something he had wanted to  _for months._

He kissed her, again and will do for years to come.

•••

Recovery was quicker this time. Hermione told him that after she had healed him she brought him back to the room of requirement, where they had been for two days then. She had found all the medical needs to take care of him efficiently. She had not told any of the teachers, or even the headmistress, and she was sure she was in for a beating when she would actually meet the headmistress.

He only laughed at her banter, knowing no such think would happen. It was when she was sitting beside him, fingering the bandage on his arm that he did something.

He saw her own arm, bandaged and strategically kept out of sight. He did not know what came over him when he reached across and held it. Hermione was startled that he had brought it up. Draco felt guilt wash over him, and looked Hermione in the eyes and said, "no one has the right to call you . It is not who you are. It is not how the world should see you, it is not how I see you, and it is not how you should see yourself."

Hermione's eyes filled with tears once more that evening, and she bent down and hugged him tight.

•••

Again, the months passed as the two once more set foot onto their long remaining journey to recovery. This time, however, it was easier for both knowing that the person they share the journey with will never, ever leave their side. It made them a bit happier, a bit more okay. Eventually they smiled more, laughed more merrily as their scars healed, with no other help than that of each other and that of their own. They still met ad midnight under the stairs, still talked till the stars went out, and still held hands till he bid her farewell each night on the stairs, kissing her goodnight.

They were two whole new beings as the year came to an end.

Draco, as it turned out, had a very quick wit and interesting sense of humor that had more than once caught Hermione off guard and blushing.

Hermione, as it turned out, had the perfect retort to every one of his jokes and muttered them under her breath and left him laughing his head off.

Both turned out, had hearts bigger than they let on.

It was their last night on Hogwarts grounds that they lay on the open grass under the starry night, talking and enjoying the company. She laid on his arm, holding his hand close to her chest, and he laid with his face above hers, lips pressed to her head.

They talked of nothing and everything, enjoying the peace they had craved so much, and making most of their time left together.

Draco had been quiet that long night, and Hermione understood why. She held his hand more tightly and whispered, "It's okay Draco. The manor will be fine. I'll join you in a couple of days, you know that right? You don't have to be afraid."

Draco squeezed her hand and gazed at her with great affection, grateful for her presence. Grateful for her agreeing to stay at the manor until she finds her parents again, until he's not so afraid anymore. He knew none of them were quite ready to depart each other, he was thankful

"Yeah, I know. I couldn't help but think about it. Thank you."

He kissed the top of her head. "Thank you for doing this for me. Coming to the manor, I mean."

She looked up at him with affection. "You would do the same. But are you sure she'll be able to come to terms with me being there? You know, with me not-"

"She'll be fine," he cut her, not wanting her to finish her sentence. "I have told her, and she-she, I'm sure she will understand, eventually."

"Draco, I can't live there if she doesn't want me there, or doesn't like me. It's  _her_ house after all-"

"She  _will_ like you, and she doesn't not want you to be there. I just meant, she will get used to us. It would come off as a bit of a shock, you know." He said, staring at the stars above, his thoughts wandering to his mother, and how alone she must be feeling then. But she won't be any longer, they were going home tomorrow.

Hermione, having found her parents down in Australia, will travel there and would join him a week or two later. Everything felt like it was working out, piece by piece, and going back to normal. He only wished it would stay like this for years to come.

They stayed quiet for a long time, just lying there enjoying each other's company. But then, Draco had an idea, and recalled something he had been wanting to do.

"Hermione! Get up, I need to show you something." He said.

Hermione, slightly startled and amused, sat up and looked back at him as he tried to do the same.

He had a large smile playing on his lips, and she smiled too. "What is it?" she asked, her voice playful.

He grinned, not answering. He muttered something under his breath, and waited. A few moments in silence and Hermione heard it. A strong whistle. It took her a few moments to figure out that the noise was coming from an object moving through the wind. It took her another few seconds to guess what it could possibly be, just as it shot past her head, startling her, and into Draco's hands.

His beloved broomstick.

Hermione laughed, and so did he.

Draco mounted his broomstick and held out his hand towards her.

"Come on," he said, his eyes twinkling and lips broken into a toothy smile, one anyone rarely ever got to see.

Hermione was flushed, and she suddenly felt her heart beating fast. She got up and walked to him, not taking his hand though.

"Oh Draco, I would love to but I don't quite enjoy the experience. I rode it a few times, once with harry and I can't say I enjoyed. Though we  _were_ flying for our lives then." She said smiling as she recalled the memory. It wasn't a good one, but looking back at the horrendous experience, it made her laugh, for now everything was alright.

Draco laughed. "That was because  _Potter_ was riding it, and Merlin's beard he's awful. I, on the other hand, am a whole new story. Come on." He pushed his hand onto hers and before she could object pulled her onto it.

Hermione, now on the broom was not ready when it took off. She had only said, "Draco, I love you but I don't think this is a good ide-AAAAAAAHH," her sentence cut short by a scream.

They shot forward as the night sky filled with Draco's laughter. She held onto him for dear life, not opening her eyes. Draco did not seem to mind her arms around him though.

"Open your eyes granger!" he yelled over the whooshing wind.

Hermione, scared and her mind whirring with all the ways she could possibly die, did not want to open her eyes. But she trusted him, trusted that he won't let her fall, and peeked one eye open. She still held onto him as twisted and turned through the night sky, even going as far as flying upside down (which earned a shriek from Hermione as she called out to him to stop being something he would much rather not say out loud). He went up, and around and spun in circles, then slowed down before racing up again.

Even if Hermione wouldn't admit it later, it did feel good. The wind felt amazing against her face as her hair trailed behind her. They were surrounded by the night, and they had gone so high up that the temperature had dropped a notch. Underneath her was a breath taking view of the Hogwarts gardens (which even looked beautiful upside down). The wide expense of greenery stretching out beneath her with flowing fountains and shrubbery, they flew past the giant Ravenclaw tower, went past every pillar and window and roof. He took them higher than before, going past the astronomy tower. In the distance she would see the forbidden forest stretching out to limits unknown. She could see Hogsmead, all the tiny cozy houses still lit in that time of the night.

It was breath taking, to be able to see so much from that spot. He flew and flew, taking her so many places, showing her the Quidditch ground and whipping past the weeping willow. And the best thing was, Draco was by her side.

Draco could tell she was enjoying herself. For one, her shrieks and protests had ceased, and her hold on his waist had loosened the tiniest bit, and he could no longer feel her head against his back. He knew she was staring at the view around her, how the sky opened to infinite degree around him, how he could go anywhere he wanted. There was no ground holding them, he was free to move as he pleased, it was the epitome of freedom.

It had been a long time, and he could tell she was tired. He veered the broomstick around the towers, going towards the Gryffindor one.

Hermione saw him navigating the broomstick to the Gryffindor tower, and was surprised when he stopped before a window that opened up to her room.

It was after they'd slowed down that Hermione said to him, "Blimey, Draco have you been spying on me? How did you know this was my room?"

They stopped moving and Draco turned slightly to face her. "I  _didn't_ know it was your room. I only knew it was in this general area, and I knew you would tell me when we got there. You're welcome." He said in humor.

Hermione threw her head back and laughed. "You know me so well, Draco," she kissed his cheek as he lowered her to her window, enough so she could unlatch it with a wandless spell and step in easily. She went in to see all the girls asleep, and turned to bid Draco farewell.

But instead she said, "You know this seems very Aladdin like to me."

Draco frowned. "This feels like  _what_ to you?"

She was amused. "Aladdin, you know how he takes the princess on a magic carpet ride at night and then drops her off her castle?"

Draco stared at her, bewildered and utterly astonished at what she had said .she blushed, realizing it must be a muggle thing. "I swear Granger, I can never make sense of half the things you say. Magic carpet? What fun would that be? And princess? I feel like you spend too much time with the Weasleys, you're loosing brain cells."

Hermione blushed even harder and immediately smacked his arm for making fun of her friends. "Shut up Draco. It's a muggle movie. I'll show it to you someday."

"Movie?" he questioned.

"Oh Merlin, Draco. Goodbye, I'll see you tomorrow." She said, moving to close the windows.

"Hey!" he said before she could close them. "Don't I get a kiss good night? I bet Aladdin got one when he dropped the princess off."

"Actually, no he fell off the terrace and got captured by an evil man and was thrown into the sea."

Draco stared at her in silence. "You're killing me, granger."

She laughed and pulled him in for a kiss through the open window.

She smiled when they broke apart and pushed him away. "Goodnight Draco," she said.

"Night granger, I hope you dream of me." He mused with a cheeky grin and rode off into the night before she could say anything. She laughed at his statement and shook her head.

As she closed her window, she could not help but think how the next day would be her last at this castle. She turned and leaned her back against the window, her hands behind her. She took one last great look at her room, filled with sleeping seventh years. How she would miss this place, ever so dearly.

Hogwarts had given her the best years of her life. Yes, they came with an innumerable amount of grief as a token, but comparing herself from the time she had set foot into the castle all those months ago, she knew it was a price she had to pay with the life she had chosen.

She knew her trials and tribulations were far from over, but so were her joys. She had friends waiting for her across the country, parents across half the world, and one beautiful human being flying outside her window. It was all she needed in life. As Hermione thought about Draco, an involuntary smile spread across her lips. She was completely sure, that they were alright. That they were on the right track, and that their future will be absolutely and completely fine. Nothing could beat the Granger and the Malfoy, and it made her chest swell at the thought that they had promised to stay with each other forever.

Draco, as he flew across the grounds back to the dungeon entrance, thought only of the bushy haired girl. How one night, an exchanged jacket and a pocket full of words had broken the restraints of prejudice and progressed into love, it was far beyond him. But if that was what the stars wanted, he did not mind in the least. He knew life was not perfect, and that they had a long way to go, but it seemed perfect for him. He had never much liked Hogwarts before, but now he loved it, for it was the reason he had met the love he never thought he could find.

And for one, powerful, fleeting moment, they could convince themselves: that maybe, just maybe, the world wasn't such a bad place after all.

•••


	10. end

_happiness can be found in the darkest of times, if only one remembers to turn on the light._

> _-Albus Dumbledore_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And finally, here we are! This book is finally over. I loved writing this, and it makes me sad that it has ended. Harry Potter, Hermione and Draco and every bit of J.K Rowling's world means a lot to me and I wanted to write something related to it for so long. It gives me great satisfaction now that I finally have. 
> 
> Draco and Hermione's story is not over, and I might come back to this after this very important year of college is over. When it comes to them, my imagination goes wild and I could easily write a lot more. However, I thought the last chapter would provide a satisfactory ending. I tried my best to eliminate any plotholes, though I know still quite some remain. I know my writing is not the best, and that this book is full of mistakes and typos. And if you still stuck to it and read it and even liked it, I am incapable of expressing my gratitude to you. Thank you.
> 
> On an end note, if you like what i write, follow me for more upcoming works :) I am planning to write non-fanfiction short stories just like Scars, and if you enjoyed this, i would invite you to read my other books.
> 
> Lastly, my lovely friend helped me compile a playlist for Scars. These are the songs I feel relate closely to Scars, and they're my absolute favorite ones too. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> 1\. Skillet-The Last Night
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> 2\. One Direction-Night Changes
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> 3\. Rachel Platten-Fight Song
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> 4\. One Direction-18
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> 5\. Ed Sheeran-Photograph
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> 6\. Gabrielle Aplin-Salvation
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> 7\. Lawson-Learn to Love Again
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> 8\. Hozier-Like Real People Do
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> 9\. Anastasia-At The Beginning
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> 10\. Beyoncé-Halo
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> Until next time, fellas. I'll see you soon :)
> 
> All the love, xx


	11. Bonus parts -info-

Hey guys! long time no see! As promised, I will be coming back for some bonus chapters, though it might not be as soon due to college and other reasons. However, I have a few ideas listed and sorted out for the bonus parts, all i need to do is just sit and write which is a difficult task these days. Anyway, the purpose for this update was that if you guys want any scenes written in particular, drop them down in the comments below! (if anyone is still reading this or have it in their libraries lol) I'm open to anything and everything these days, and would really appreciate some ideas. also, this part will be deleted after I post the first bonus, so be quick with your suggestions as I will not take any more after that! (Though u still have plenty time, just a warning)

That's all, hoping to come back to this soon!

see ya :') xx


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